 | Country muse |  |
52
THREE MAIDS
Chloris—
Here's Cupid sleeping on a bank!
Let's steal his bow and break his arrows,
Or pinch him till he promises
To shoot them only at the sparrows!
Why, what a charming rogue it is,
And what a tempting mouth to kiss!
Let's steal his bow and break his arrows,
Or pinch him till he promises
To shoot them only at the sparrows!
Why, what a charming rogue it is,
And what a tempting mouth to kiss!
Clarinda—
Shame fall on any plan to snatch
The rosy god's most sacred arrows!
While this my bosom's loveless still,
Pray Cupid spare the world of sparrows!
I have a target soft and fair
That longs to feel his arrow there!
The rosy god's most sacred arrows!
While this my bosom's loveless still,
Pray Cupid spare the world of sparrows!
I have a target soft and fair
That longs to feel his arrow there!
57
Unless his dart he aim apace
Our skin will wear from pink to yellow,
And not a maid as wife will sleep
Beside some strapping shepherd-fellow!
Wherefore my lips the god shall buss
That he may wake and shoot at us!
Our skin will wear from pink to yellow,
And not a maid as wife will sleep
Beside some strapping shepherd-fellow!
Wherefore my lips the god shall buss
That he may wake and shoot at us!
| Country muse | |