 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
HORACE TO POLLY.
ODE (XXIII) “AD PYRRHAM.”
You fly from me, Polly, my dear, like a fawn,
That, trembling still at each breeze that blows,
Seeks for its dam on the mountain bawn,
With a terror that suffers her no repose;
With feeble limbs, and faltering heart,
That shrinks from the rustle of leafy spring,
And deems the green lizard, as bushes part,
Some very fearful and terrible thing!
That, trembling still at each breeze that blows,
Seeks for its dam on the mountain bawn,
With a terror that suffers her no repose;
With feeble limbs, and faltering heart,
That shrinks from the rustle of leafy spring,
And deems the green lizard, as bushes part,
Some very fearful and terrible thing!
Believe me, Polly, no tiger wild,
No panther of Buncombe to tear you, child;
And now that you're quite of a marrying age,
And I'm not the worst-looking lad you see,
Turn a new leaf in your virgin page,
Quit your mamma and take lodgings with me.
No panther of Buncombe to tear you, child;
And now that you're quite of a marrying age,
And I'm not the worst-looking lad you see,
Turn a new leaf in your virgin page,
Quit your mamma and take lodgings with me.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |