Like mad on the piano-forte.
A month ago those words I wrote,
Before I dreamt what ruin boded,
Or that the fair one wished to vote, -
Alas! how were my hopes exploded!
I walk'd with her, I danc'd, I rode,
On bended knee I begg'd her choose me :
She droopt her eyelids a-la-mode, -
"I have a mission, please excuse me."
F.