 | Poetical Trifles |  |
96
IMITATED.
[When fond by the side of my Laura I'm sighing]
When fond by the side of my Laura I'm sighing,
And my love-worn heart through fell Cupid is bleeding;
She ne'er can be piteous, altho' I were dying,
Her dark melting eyes on my torture are feeding.
And my love-worn heart through fell Cupid is bleeding;
She ne'er can be piteous, altho' I were dying,
Her dark melting eyes on my torture are feeding.
When remov'd from her sight she will deeply regret,
And cry, “how his absence with sorrow does seize me;”
But sweet Laura, thy motive I ne'er can forget,
Thou would'st I were near, like a tyrant to teaze me.
And cry, “how his absence with sorrow does seize me;”
But sweet Laura, thy motive I ne'er can forget,
Thou would'st I were near, like a tyrant to teaze me.
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