HALF vex'd, half
pleased, thy love will feel,
Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal;
To thee they're much--I won't conceal;
may pardon'd be;
A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings,
In truth are no mean trifling things,
But still they're
not enough for me.
She who is dearest
to my heart,
Gave me, with well dissembled smart,
Of her own life, a living part,
No charm in aught
beside I trace;
How do I scorn thy paltry ware!
A lock she gave me of the hair
That wantons o'er
her beauteous face.
If, loved one,
we must sever'd be,
Wouldst thou not wholly fly from me,
I still possess this legacy,
To look at, and
to kiss in play.--
My fate is to the hair's allied,
We used to woo her with like pride,
And now we both
are far away.
Her charms with
equal joy we press'd,
Her swelling cheeks anon caress'd,
Lured onward by a yearning blest,
Upon her heaving
Oh rival, free from envy's sway,
Thou precious gift, thou beauteous prey.
Remain my joy and
bliss to tell!