She
kissed me ere I could escape,
And hushed my frightened cry;
“What
do you mean, villain?” I cried,
With anger in my eye.
Upon
her knees she fell at once,
“Forgive me, dear, “ cried she;
“We
were alone, I couldn’t miss
The opportunity.”
June
29, 1895
Pub.
in Boston
Courier,
July 28,
1895
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