The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson including many pieces never before published. In Three Volumes |
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 | III. |
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THE WAY TO KEEP HIM. |
 | The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson |  |
141
THE WAY TO KEEP HIM.
A lover, when he first essays
A lady's heart to gain,
A thousand tender fears betrays,
And talks of jealous pain!
All day he sighs, and sighing swears,
That love, and hope, and anxious cares,
Destroy his peace, his nights molest,
And agonize his “feeling breast!”
A lady's heart to gain,
A thousand tender fears betrays,
And talks of jealous pain!
All day he sighs, and sighing swears,
That love, and hope, and anxious cares,
Destroy his peace, his nights molest,
And agonize his “feeling breast!”
If not believ'd, he ardent pays
Obedient homage still!
And ev'ry gentle grace displays,
To gratify her will!
Where'er she goes, he follows there;
And if she flies him, he'll pursue;
And if she frowns—he'll still adore;
And if she scorns—he'll doat the more!
Obedient homage still!
And ev'ry gentle grace displays,
To gratify her will!
Where'er she goes, he follows there;
And if she flies him, he'll pursue;
And if she frowns—he'll still adore;
And if she scorns—he'll doat the more!
142
Let her another kindly treat,
He sighs in hopeless pain;
Let her his eyes with coldness meet,
And ev'ry glance disdain;
Let her avoid him, wayward prone,
To favour all, save him alone!
Let others see her always glad,
But let him find her—ever sad!
He sighs in hopeless pain;
Let her his eyes with coldness meet,
And ev'ry glance disdain;
Let her avoid him, wayward prone,
To favour all, save him alone!
Let others see her always glad,
But let him find her—ever sad!
Thus wou'd you keep a lover still,
Unkind and careless prove;
For man is humble—treated ill!
And coldness fosters love!
Spurn him with harshness, and he sighs;
Most servile, when most cross'd;
Reward with kindness—and he flies!
Adore him—and he's lost!
Unkind and careless prove;
For man is humble—treated ill!
And coldness fosters love!
Spurn him with harshness, and he sighs;
Most servile, when most cross'd;
Reward with kindness—and he flies!
Adore him—and he's lost!
| The Poetical Works of the late Mrs Mary Robinson | |