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"My eyes you said, were opals, brightly pink, "Enchas'd in onyx; and you seem'd to think, "Each charm might then the coldest heart enthrall: "Those charms were mine. Alas! I gave you all— "Your farthest wanderings then were but to fetch "The pea, the tare, the beechmast, and the vetch, "For my repast; within my rocky bower, "With spleenwort shaded, and the blue-bell's flower, "For prospects then you never wish'd to roam, "But the best scenery was our happy home; "And when, beneath my breast, then fair and young, "Our first dear pair, our earliest nestlings sprung, "And weakly, indistinctly, tried to coo— "Were not those moments picturesque to you?" "Yes, faith, my dear; and all you say is true."