I woo'd a woman once,But she was sharper than an eastern wind.Tennyson"What may I do to make you glad,To make you glad and free,Till your light smiles glanceAnd your bright eyes danceLike sunbeams on the sea?Read some rhyme that is blithe and gayOf a bright May morn and a marriage day?"And she sighed in a listless way she had,--"Do not read--it will make me sad!""What shall I do to make you glad-
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