Page:Poems, now first collected, Stedman, 1897.djvu/102

AARON BURR'S WOOING Once across, once again in the seat and away—

Five leagues are soon over when love has the say;

And "Old Put" and his rider a bridle-path know

To the Hermitage manor of Madame Prevost.

Lightly done! but he halts in the grove's deepest glade,

Ties his horse to a birch, trims his cue, slings his blade,

Wipes the dust and the dew from his smooth, handsome face,

With the 'kerchief she broidered and bordered in lace;

Then slips through the box-rows and taps at the hall,

Sees the glint of a waxlight, a hand white and small,

And the door is unbarred by herself all aglow—

Half in smiles, half in tears—Theodosia Prevost.

Alack for the soldier that's buried and gone!

What's a volley above him, a wreath on his stone,

Compared with sweet life and a wife for one's view

Like this dame, ripe and warm in her India fichu?

She chides her bold lover, yet holds him more dear,

For the daring that brings him a night-rider here; 82