  (Another version) LONG by the willow-trees Vainly they sought her, Wild rang the mother's screams O'er the gray water: "Where is my lovely one? Where is my daughter? "Rouse thee, Sir Constable— Rouse thee and look; Fisherman, bring your net, Boatman, your hook. Beat in the lily-beds, Dive in the brook!" Vainly the constable Shouted and called her; Vainly the fisherman Beat the green alder; Vainly he flung the net, Mother beside the fire Sat, her nightcap in; Father, in easy chair, Gloomily napping, When at the window-sill Came a light tapping! And a pale countenance Looked through the casement, Loud beat the mother's heart, Sick with amazement, And at the vision which Came to surprise her, Shrieked in an agony— "Lor'! it's Elizar!" Yes, 'twas Elizabeth— Yes, 'twas their girl; Pale was her cheek, and her Hair out of curl. "Mother," the loving one, Blushing exclaimed, "Let not your innocent Lizzy be blamed. "Yesterday, going to Aunt Jones's to tea, Mother, dear mother, I And as the night was cold And the way steep, Mrs. Jones kept me to Breakfast and sleep." Whether her Pa and Ma Fully believed her, That we shall never know, Stern they received her; And for the work of that Cruel, though short, night Sent her to bed without Tea for a fortnight. MORAL Hey diddle diddlety, Cat and the fiddlety, Maidens of England, take caution by she! Let love and suicide Never tempt you aside, And always remember to take the door-key. W. M. Thackeray. |
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