1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
22. |
23. |
24. |
25. |
26. |
27. |
28. |
29. |
30. |
31. |
32. |
33. |
34. |
35. |
36. |
37. |
38. |
39. |
40. |
41. |
42. |
43. |
44. |
45. |
46. |
47. |
48. |
49. |
50. |
51. |
52. |
53. |
54. |
55. |
56. |
57. |
58. |
59. |
60. |
61. |
62. |
63. |
64. |
65. |
66. |
67. |
68. |
69. |
70. |
71. |
72. |
73. |
74. |
75. |
76. |
77. |
78. |
79. |
80. |
81. |
82. |
83. |
84. |
85. |
86. |
87. |
88. |
89. |
90. |
91. |
92. |
93. |
94. |
95. |
96. |
97. |
98. |
99. |
100. |
101. |
102. |
103. |
104. |
105. |
106. |
107. |
108. |
109. |
110. |
111. |
112. |
113. |
114. |
115. |
116. |
117. |
118. |
119. |
120. |
121. |
122. |
123. |
124. |
125. |
126. |
127. |
128. |
129. |
130. |
131. |
132. |
133. |
134. |
135. |
136. |
137. |
138. |
139. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
1. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
3. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
1. |
2. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
3. |
1. |
LOVE IN A COTTAGE. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
LOVE IN A COTTAGE. The complete works of N.P. Willis | ||
LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
They may talk of love in a cottage,
And bowers of trellised vine —
Of nature bewitchingly simple,
And mill maids half divine;
They may talk of the pleasure of sleeping
In the shade of a spreading tree,
And a walk in the fields at morning,
By the side of a footstep free!
But give me a sly flirtation
By the light of a chandelier —
With music to play in the pauses,
And nobody very near;
Or a seat on a silken sofa,
With a glass of pure old wine,
And mamma too blind to discover
The small white hand in mine.
Your love in a cottage is hungry,
Your vine is a nest for flies —
Your milkmaid shocks the Graces,
And simplicity talks of pies!
You lie down to your shady slumber
And wake with a bug in your ear,
And your damsel that walks in the morning
Is shod like a mountaineer.
True love is at home on a carpet,
And mightily likes his ease —
And true love has an eye for a dinner,
And starves beneath shady trees.
His wing is the fan of a lady,
His foot's an invisible thing,
And his arrow is tipp'd with a jewel,
And shot from a silver string.
And bowers of trellised vine —
Of nature bewitchingly simple,
And mill maids half divine;
They may talk of the pleasure of sleeping
In the shade of a spreading tree,
And a walk in the fields at morning,
By the side of a footstep free!
But give me a sly flirtation
By the light of a chandelier —
With music to play in the pauses,
And nobody very near;
Or a seat on a silken sofa,
With a glass of pure old wine,
And mamma too blind to discover
The small white hand in mine.
Your love in a cottage is hungry,
Your vine is a nest for flies —
Your milkmaid shocks the Graces,
And simplicity talks of pies!
You lie down to your shady slumber
And wake with a bug in your ear,
And your damsel that walks in the morning
Is shod like a mountaineer.
True love is at home on a carpet,
And mightily likes his ease —
And true love has an eye for a dinner,
And starves beneath shady trees.
His wing is the fan of a lady,
His foot's an invisible thing,
And his arrow is tipp'd with a jewel,
And shot from a silver string.
LOVE IN A COTTAGE. The complete works of N.P. Willis | ||