University of Virginia Library

THE WOODBINES OF JUNE.

Broom glow'd in the valley,
For William and Sally,
The rose with the rill was in tune;
Love fluttering their bosoms,
As breezes the blossoms,
They stray'd thro' the woodbines of June.

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Oft, oft he caress'd her,
And to his heart press'd her,
The rose with the woodbine was twined;
Her cheek on his bosom,
Like dew on the blossom,
Enchanted the tale-telling wind.
Poor Sally was bonny,
But Mary had money,
Ay, money, and beauty beside;
And wilt thou, sweet Mary,
Thou fond and unwary,
Deprive the wise fool of his bride?
Yes, bee-haunted valley!
Poor heart-broken Sally
No more, with her William, will stray—
“He marries another!
I'm dying!—O mother!
Take, take that sweet woodbine away!”