And then have something left to say;
But, Mary, am I wrong or right,
Or, do I throw my words away?

Something like Consent.

"Leave me, or take me and my horse;
I've told thee truth, and all I know:
Truth _should_ breed truth; that comes of course;
If I sow wheat, why wheat will grow."

"Yes, Abner, but thus soon to yield,
Neighbours would fleer, and look behind 'em;
Though, with a husband in the field,
Perhaps, indeed, I should not mind 'em.

"I've known your generous nature well,
My first denial cost me dear;
How this may end we cannot tell,
But, as for Bayard, bring him here."

Parting of the Lovers.--Sad News.

"Bless thee for that," the plowman cried,
At once both starting from the seat,
He stood a guardian by her side,
But talk'd of home,--'twas growing late.

Then step for step within his arm,
She cheer'd him down the dewy way;