He muttered the errand on which he'd come,
Then only chuckled and bit his thumb,
And simpered, simpered shyly.
"No," said the maiden, "go your way;
You dare but think what a man would say,
Yet dare to come a-suing!
I've time to lose and power to choose;
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's WAY of wooing!"

A third rode up at a startling pace--
A suitor poor, with a homely face--
No doubts appeared to bind him.
He kissed her lips and he pressed her waist,
And off he rode with the maiden, placed
On a pillion safe behind him.
And she heard the suitor bold confide
This golden hint to the priest who tied
The knot there's no undoing;
With pretty young maidens who can choose,
'Tis not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's WAY of wooing!"



Ballad: Hongree And Mahry. A Recollection Of A Surrey Melodrama



The sun was setting in its wonted west,