Chapter 912 of 1414 · 52 words · ~1 min read

II.

O happy be the woodbine bower, Nae nightly bogle make it eerie; Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, The place and time I met my dearie! Her head upon my throbbing breast, She, sinking, said, "I'm thine for ever?" While mony a kiss the seal imprest, The sacred vow,--we ne'er should sever.