It was the time when Ouse displayed
His lilies newly blown.
Their beauties I intent surveyed,
And one I wished my own.

With cane extended far, I sought
To steer it close to land;
But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.

Beau marked my unsuccessful pains,
With fixed, considerate face;
And, puzzling, set his puppy brains
To comprehend the case.

But, with a chirrup clear and strong
Dispersing all his dream,
I thence withdrew, and followed long
The windings of the stream.

My ramble finished, I returned;
Beau, trotting far before,
The floating wreath again discerned,
And, plunging, left the shore.

I saw him with that lily cropped
Impatient swim to meet
My quick approach; and soon he dropped
The treasure at my feet.