Young Arthur | ||
BALLAD.
O, alas! for the maiden
Who sighing must sue;
Her return is derision
Tho' pity her due!
O, shame upon manhood
Enjoying her smart;
While her face ting'd with blushes,
Betrays her sad heart!
Who sighing must sue;
Her return is derision
Tho' pity her due!
O, shame upon manhood
Enjoying her smart;
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Betrays her sad heart!
And can you for ever
Thus treat my fond love?
Should our sex slight your passion
How keen you reprove!
But if love wounds a maiden
Disdain'd she must sigh;
She but owns love to sorrow,
Conceals it to die!
Thus treat my fond love?
Should our sex slight your passion
How keen you reprove!
But if love wounds a maiden
Disdain'd she must sigh;
She but owns love to sorrow,
Conceals it to die!
Young Arthur | ||