"I'm after axin', Biddy dear--"
And here he paused a while
To fringe his words the merest mite
With something of a smile--
A smile that found its image
In a face of beauteous mold,
Whose liquid eyes were peeping
From a broidery of gold.
"I've come to ax ye, Biddy dear,
If--" then he stopped again,
As if his heart had bubbled o'er
And overflowed his brain.
His lips were twitching nervously
O'er what they had to tell,
And timed the quavers with the eyes
That gently rose and fell.
"I've come--" and then he took her hands
And held them in his own,
"To ax--" and then he watched the buds
That on her cheeks had blown,--
"Me purty dear--" and then he heard
The throbbing of her heart,
That told how love had entered in
And claimed its every part.
"Och! don't be tazin' me," said she,
With just the faintest sigh,
"I've sinse enough to see you've come,
But what's the reason why?"
"To ax--" and once again the tongue
Forbore its sweets to tell,
"To ax--_if Mrs. Mulligan,
Has any pigs to sell_."