Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
WISHING FOR MARRIAGE.
In vain do they tell me that love's a delight,
While dreaming all day, and tossing all night,
Alternately teased between pleasure and pain;
Afraid, when we part, lest we ne'er meet again;
Suspicious their smiling
May prove my beguiling;
And wishing for marriage, but wishing in vain.
While dreaming all day, and tossing all night,
Alternately teased between pleasure and pain;
Afraid, when we part, lest we ne'er meet again;
Suspicious their smiling
May prove my beguiling;
And wishing for marriage, but wishing in vain.
373
How dreary to me is this dull rural life,
While longing to change the maid for the wife;
The wild ceaseless hum of yon foaming cascade
No pleasure can give like the grand masquerade;
The gay Trongate dandies
A sight far more grand is
Than e'er can be seen in the grotto and glade.
While longing to change the maid for the wife;
The wild ceaseless hum of yon foaming cascade
No pleasure can give like the grand masquerade;
The gay Trongate dandies
A sight far more grand is
Than e'er can be seen in the grotto and glade.
The tinkling piano may serve for a while
The slow-passing hours of day to beguile;
But sweeter by far is the gay blazing hall,
While amorous waltzing awakens the ball;
Thus tripping so sprightly,
As love glances brightly,
In Cupid's sweet snare, every heart could enthral.
The slow-passing hours of day to beguile;
But sweeter by far is the gay blazing hall,
While amorous waltzing awakens the ball;
Thus tripping so sprightly,
As love glances brightly,
In Cupid's sweet snare, every heart could enthral.
But what if each trapping that I can devise
Doth fail in the end to gain me the prize?
I'll seek then the shades of the dark lonely bowers,
Where mirth never smiles, and where solitude lours;
Recluse by the wild wood,
The haunts of my childhood,
In silent retirement, I'll spend the lone hours.
Doth fail in the end to gain me the prize?
I'll seek then the shades of the dark lonely bowers,
Where mirth never smiles, and where solitude lours;
Recluse by the wild wood,
The haunts of my childhood,
In silent retirement, I'll spend the lone hours.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |