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Time flies—and soon the grass is mown;
Alas! 'tis mown—
Would I had ne'er that sportsman known!
She wash'd the linen by the stream;
Alas! the stream:
And bitterly upbraided him.
Before I met that sportsman there;
Alas! 'twas there—
I was a rose—all pure and fair.
Beauty and purity are gone;
Alas! are gone—
He is gone too—the faithless one!
He to another breast hath crept;
Alas! hath crept—
And then the maiden wept and wept.
Ah! go not to the grove, ye fair;
Alas! ye fair—
For ye may meet a sportsman there.