HARRY.



PART I.


Love caught his heart in a lovely surprise,
Just the first moment he looked in my eyes:
Poor little eyes! by no prescience lit,
They saw him three weeks ere I lov'd him one bit.

Fair is the book[1] where we read of a life
Born to a throne, taking love for its bliss,
Self-reproach wounding the sweet royal wife
For keeping two years he had asked for as his.

[Footnote 1: See 'Life of Prince Consort,' vol. i.]

So _I_ might suffer a sort of remorse,
Thinking of days that I cared not, yet knew;
Only, he says, ''Tis a matter of course
Girls should be woo'd and their lovers should woo.'

Only, the blossom he stoops not to touch.
Sparkling with beauty that lies at his feet;