There he waited for the prize.
Nearer, nearer came the footsteps,
Lightly as a fairy's tend;
While within his wicked ambush
Richard waited for the end.
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Softly they approached the sofa,
Surely he it is they seek;
And, surprised and joyed, he felt a
Timid kiss upon his cheek!
Thrilled with fond imagination,
Up he sprang with ardor then,
And, with love's own burning passion,
Clasped his faithful pointer, Ben! -
Clasped him with delicious triumph,
Pressed him fondly to his breast,
Then with madness gazed upon him -
Well, we will omit the rest!
WALLINGFORD.