. . .All at once a conscious thrill Led me, half against my will, To look up. Abashed I see His dark eyes full fixed on me. What he said I do not know, But his voice was soft and low, As he spoke in careless chat, Now of this and now of that, While the murmurous waves of sound Wafted me a bliss profound. Foolish, foolish Barbara! Am I waking? Scarce I know If I wake or if I dream, So unreal all things seem; Yet I could not well forego This sweet dream, if dream it be, That has brought such joy to me. He has told me that he loves me,— He in rank so far above me; And when I, with cheeks aglow, Told him that it was not meet He should wed with one so low, He should wed with one so low, Then he said, in accents sweet, "Far be thoughts of rank or pelf; Dear, I love thee for thyself!" Happy, happy Barbara!



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