In spite of his maddening order,
That none in the country may trade
With the tribes on our side of the border,
Who is not a benedict staid;
In spite of a clause, far the sorest,
That none past his twentieth year,
And single, shall enter the forest
On any pretext whatsoe'er.

Now, you know I was ever a rover,
Half stifled by cities or towns,
Of nature--and you--a warm lover,
Wooing both in despite of your frowns,
So you well may imagine my sorrow
When fettered and threatened like this--
Oh! Marie, dear, pack up to-morrow,
And bring me back freedom and bliss.

If you do not, who knows but some morning
I'll waken and find a decree
Has been passed, that, without any warning,
Has wedded some woman to me?
Oh! Marie, chere Marie, have pity;
You only my woes can assuage;
I'm confined, till I wed, to the city,
And feel like a bird in a cage.

Then come, nor give heed to the billows
That tumble between you and Jules.
I know a sweet spot where lithe willows