The ducks keep up a quiet quacking
Through the moonless night,
As though a sniffing round their pen
Has given them a fright:
And I, too, lie with quaking heart
'Waiting the daylight.

Happen it's a lurking weasel
Keeps the ducks awake;
But why should I, through aching hours,
Lie with heart aquake?
What peril lurks, O heart, for you,
Waiting till daybreak?