before my eyes; I recollect a thousand little caressing questions; could
describe her clothes, her head-dress, nor have the two curls of fine
black hair which hung on her temples, according to the mode of that time,
escaped my memory.

Though my taste, or rather passion, for music, did not show itself until
a considerable time after, I am fully persuaded it is to her I am
indebted for it. She knew a great number of songs, which she sung with
great sweetness and melody. The serenity and cheerfulness which were
conspicuous in this lovely girl, banished melancholy, and made all round
her happy.

The charms of her voice had such an effect on me, that not only several
of her songs have ever since remained on my memory, but some I have not
thought of from my infancy, as I grow old, return upon my mind with a
charm altogether inexpressible. Would any one believe that an old dotard
like me, worn out with care and infirmity, should sometime surprise
himself weeping like a child, and in a voice querulous, and broken by
age, muttering out one of those airs which were the favorites of my
infancy? There is one song in particular, whose tune I perfectly
recollect, but the words that compose the latter half of it constantly
refuse every effort to recall them, though I have a confused idea of the
rhymes. The beginning, with what I have been able to recollect of the
remainder, is as follows:

Tircis, je n'ose
Ecouter ton Chalumeau
Sous l'Ormeau;
Car on en cause
Deja dans notre hameau.