THE YOUNG USURPER

On my darling's bosom

Has dropped a living rosy bud,

Fair as brilliant Hesper

Against the brimming flood.

She handles him,

She dandles him,

She fondles him and eyes him:

And if upon a tear he wakes,

With many a kiss she dries him:

She covets every move he makes,

And never enough can prize him.

Ah, the young Usurper!

I yield my golden throne:

Such angel bands attend his hands

To claim it for his own.