635

I think the longest Hour of all
Is when the Cars have come
And we are waiting for the Coach
It seems as though the Time

Indignant—that the Joy was come
Did block the Gilded Hands
And would not let the Seconds by
But slowest instant—ends

The Pendulum begins to count
Like little Scholars—loud
The steps grow thicker—in the Hall
The Heart begins to crowd

Then I—my timid service done
Tho' service 'twas, of Love
Take up my little Violin
And further North—remove