Classic Poem

TIDE ROUND A FINGER.

The bell that strikes the warning hour,
Reminds me that I should not linger,
And winds around my heart its power,
Tight as the string around my finger.

A sweet good-night I give, and then
Far from my thoughts I need must fling her,
Who bless'd that lovely evening, when
She tied the string around my finger.

Lovely and virtuous, kind and fair,
A sweet-toned belle, Oh! who shall ring her!
Of her let bellmen all beware,
Who tie such strings around their finger.

What shall I do? — I'll sit me down,
And, in my leisure hours, I'll sing her
Who gave me neither smile nor frown,
But tied a thread around my finger.

Now may the quiet star-lit hours
Their gentlest dews and perfumes bring her;
And morning show its sweetest flowers
To her whose string is round my finger.

And never more may I forget
The spot where I so long did linger; —
But watch another chance, and get
Another string around my finger.