For many a happy day we've seen,
And if not mine, aye, years ago,
Whose was the fault? you might have been!

"All that's gone by: but I've been musing,
And vow'd, and hope to keep it true,
That she shall be my own heart's choosing
Whom I call wife.--Hey, what say you?

Past Thoughts stated.

"And as I drove my plough along,
And felt the strength that's in my arm,
Ten years, thought I, amidst my song,
I've been head-man at Harewood farm.

"And now, my own dear Mary's free,
Whom I have lov'd this many a day,
Who knows but she may think on _me?_
I'll go hear what she has to say.

"Perhaps that little stock of land
She holds, but knows not how to till,
Will suffer in the widow's hand,
And make poor Mary poorer still

The Avowal.

"That scrap of land, with one like her,
How we might live! and be so blest!