I.By the old window-seat
I was kneeling at her feet,
While the music's dreamy rhythm stirred the stillness of the hall;
For the bow upon her slipper
Was unloose, and, lest it trip her,
I was kneeling to retie it-that was all.
II.Quick ! the dance is nearly o'er,"
And her slipper beat the floor
In impatience at my lagging-for I rather liked the part.
"There ! you've broke it. Oh, how stupid !"
"Nay, 'twas but the bow of Cupid,
And it snapped, but lodged its arrow in my heart."
III."Shall I lead you to a chair?
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