LOVE used to carry a bow, you know, But now he carries a taper; It is either a length of wax aglow, Or a twist of lighted paper. I pondered a little about the scamp, And then I decided to follow His wandering journey to field and camp, Up hill, down dale or hollow. I dogged the rollicking, gay, young blade In every species of weather; Till, leading me straight to the home of a maid He left us there together. And then I saw it, oh, sweet surprise, The taper it set a-burning The love-light brimming my lady's eyes, And my heart with the fire of yearning.