COME WOOE ME AT YOUR LEISURE.
SONG XXVI.
1
As I walk'd through yon fragrant grove,
The harvest sun sunk weary;
When blooming 'mang the flow'ry banks,
Came buxom Bess, my deary.
Deep in my heart her lillie foot
Beat love's delicious measure;
And blythsome smiled her full blue eyes,
“Come wooe me at your leisure.”
2
Her lovesome shape, and rosie cheek,
Confess'd my winsome charmer;
The very sounding of her foot,
My heart set throbbing warmer.
Loose to the wind, her hazle hair
Hung want'ning at its pleasure,
While love said laughing in her looks,
“Come wooe me at your leisure.”
3
Mute, rapture strook, her hand I took,
Down by yon murm'ring river;
That happy hour, in shady bower,
Shall I forget it?—Never.
Bright woke the sun from golden clouds,
And gazed with conscious pleasure;
While blythesome blink'd my lovesome Bess,
“Come wooe me at your leisure.”
