 | Songs, comic and satyrical |  |
THE FRIGHT.
One ev'ning alone in the grove,
Miss sat on the side of the green,
She wonder'd at what they call Love,
And what it was marry'd folks mean.
“All night how I tumble and toss,
“Yet neither want manner nor means;
“Alas! must I live to my loss,
“And wither-away in my teens?
Miss sat on the side of the green,
She wonder'd at what they call Love,
And what it was marry'd folks mean.
“All night how I tumble and toss,
“Yet neither want manner nor means;
“Alas! must I live to my loss,
“And wither-away in my teens?
Young Rhodophil ran up the slope,
As if he some sport had in view;
She trembl'd, betwixt Fear and Hope,
Irresolute what she shou'd do:
She saw him advance to her seat,
She saw him, but cou'd not away;
Love fix'd a large weight to her feet,
Curiosity told her to stay.
As if he some sport had in view;
She trembl'd, betwixt Fear and Hope,
Irresolute what she shou'd do:
She saw him advance to her seat,
She saw him, but cou'd not away;
Love fix'd a large weight to her feet,
Curiosity told her to stay.
Desire gave grace to his tongue,
As lovers to lovers will speak;
Enamour'd, he over her hung,
Then bow'd down his lips to her cheek:
He knelt, she attempted to rise,
Tho' 'twas but a feeble essay;
The wildness he wore in his eyes,
So scar'd her, she fainted away.
As lovers to lovers will speak;
Enamour'd, he over her hung,
Then bow'd down his lips to her cheek:
He knelt, she attempted to rise,
Tho' 'twas but a feeble essay;
The wildness he wore in his eyes,
So scar'd her, she fainted away.
| Songs, comic and satyrical | |