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The silence of her Idiot Boy,

What hopes it sends to Betty's heart! He's at the Guide-post-he turns right,

She watches till he's out of sight,

And Betty will not then depart.

Burr, burr-now Johnny's lips they burr, As loud as any mill, or near it,

Meek as a lamb the Pony moves,

And Johnny makes the noise he loves,

And Betty listens, glad to hear it.

Away she hies to Susan Gale:

And Johnny's in a merry tune,

The Owlets hoot, the Owlets curr,

And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr,

And on he goes beneath the Moon.

His Steed and He right well agree,
For of this Pony there's a rumour,
That should he lose his eyes and ears,
And should he live a thousand years,
He never will be out of humour.

But then he is a Horse that thinks !

And when he thinks his pace is slack;

Now, though he knows poor Johnny well, Yet for his life he cannot tell

What he has got upon his back.

So through the moonlight lanes they go,
And far into the moonlight dale,

And by the church, and o'er the down,
To bring a Doctor from the town,

To comfort poor old Susan Gale.

And Betty, now at Susan's side,
Is in the middle of her story,
What comfort Johnny soon will bring,
With many a most diverting thing,

Of Johnny's wit and Johnny's glory.

And Betty's still at Susan's side:

By this time she 's not quite so flurried: Demure with porringer and plate

She sits, as if in Susan's fate

Her life and soul were buried.

But Betty, poor good Woman! she,

You plainly in her face


read it,

Could lend out of that moment's store

Five years of happiness or more

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But yet I guess that now and then

With Betty all was not so well,

And to the road she turns her ears,

And thence full many a sound she hears, Which she to Susan will not tell.

Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans; "As sure as there's a moon in heaven," Cries Betty," he 'll be back again; They'll both be here-'tis almost tenThey'll both be here before eleven."

Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans ;
The clock gives warning for eleven ;
'Tis on the stroke-" If Johnny's near,"
Quoth Betty, " he will soon be here,
As sure as there's a moon in heaven."

The clock is on the stroke of twelve,

And Johnny is not yet in sight,

-The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees,

But Betty is not quite at ease;

And Susan has a dreadful night.

And Betty, half an hour ago,
On Johnny vile reflections cast:
"A little idle sauntering Thing!"
With other names, an endless string,
But now that time is gone and past.

And Betty's drooping at the heart,
That happy time all past gone,
"How can it be he is so late?
The Doctor he has made him wait,

Susan! they'll both be here anon.”

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