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Speak but the word: "I yield," and e'en to-night,
Instead of bomb-shell hissing through the air,
And Congreve-rockets lighting up the sky,
The joyous nuptial-torch shall be ignited
O'er thee and her: for she has come with me.


Elsie is here?—so nigh to me?—and, oh!
Whole worlds could keep no farther us apart.


Yes, she is here, within my tent, and full
Of longing expectation bides the hour
That shall restore thee to her unchanged love.
So come with me, that I may join your hands.
His Excellency, with delicate discretion.
Requires thee not to fight thy countrymen,
But will dismiss thee with thy youthful bride
To Mexico forthwith, where you may dwell
On the estate he will donate to you!
'Mid balmy air, soft as a maiden's touch,
'Mid orange-groves, dark-leaved with golden fruit,
'Mong babbling springs that leap from the Sierra's
Ice-covered summits, sparkling in the sun.
Thy barns well-stored with grain, thy stalls with cattle,
A cosey house with numerous attendants.
O'er which presides a youthful, loving wife,
What greater happiness upon this earth?