And I--was I brusque and surly?
Or oppressively bland and fond?
Was I partial to rising early?
Or why did we twain abscond,
All breakfastless too, from the public view
To prowl by a misty pond?

What pass'd, what was felt or spoken -
Whether anything pass'd at all -
And whether the heart was broken
That beat under that shelt'ring shawl -
(If shawl she had on, which I doubt)--has gone,
Yes, gone from me past recall.

Was I haply the lady's suitor?
Or her uncle? I can't make out -
Ask your governess, dears, or tutor.
For myself, I'm in hopeless doubt
As to why we were there, who on earth we were,
And what this is all about.



BALLAD.



The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)