They ride, they ride with slackenud Min, Facinii the sinking sim, And he is telling her over again The tale that never is done- The tale thats as old as tlie bending bluo. And it never has hapoened tuut ui two Marveled what it could be. It never has happened that one of two. Ulithc boy, glad girl, together - Who have lelt that to Love was enongh to Jo In thesweet and the sunny weiuher- Uut have found right words ior the sona of birds In the greenery overhead; For to build the nest in the spring is bost. And 'tis best in the spring to wed. Oh, and he rides at her bridle-reln, And he bends him to her ear, With the musical tones of the old refraln That ladies rielight to hear. And hiB words aro pleasant as rain thaj pattrr Low on thf? lnuphintr loavcfs, And kind hf t h cneery Fun that flatters The gold of the harvcst ehoaves. And his hand it is on her nridle-rein, And his look is on her check - He needs not to teil her over again Of the guerdon that he would eeek- Uut oh, tho telling 1 'tis like the smelling Of the mignouette and the rose; For no matter how longyou sing love'ssong, ion lirtn never eome to its close!