Servant Girl and Grocer's Boy

Her lips' remark was:    "Oh, you kid!"      Her soul spoke thus (I know it did):      "O king of realms of endless joy,      My own, my golden grocer's boy,      I am a princess forced to dwell      Within a lonely kitchen cell,      While you go dashing through the land      With loveliness on every hand.      Your whistle strikes my eager ears      Like music of the choiring spheres.      The mighty earth grows faint and reels      Beneath your thundering wagon wheels.      How keenly, perilously sweet      To cling upon that swaying seat!      How happy she who by your side      May share the splendors of that ride!      Ah, if you will not take my hand      And bear me off across the land,      Then, traveller from Arcady,      Remain awhile and comfort me.      What other maiden can you find      So young and delicate and kind?"      Her lips' remark was:    "Oh, you kid!"      Her soul spoke thus (I know it did).