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THE DELICATE MAID.
I told a sweet damsel a tender soft tale,
Each eve as we sat in the shade,
In hopes that in time my fond suit might prevail,
For she was a delicate maid.
I said that my love was so ardent and true,
that nothing my passion could cure;
But ⟨she⟩ only ⟨answered⟩ Ab! what will you do?
tis a pity indeed, to be sure.
I play'd on my pipe and sung a soft song,
the sentiments warm from my heart;
See listen'd attentive, but then ere twas long,
declar'd it was time to ⟨depart⟩.
I press'd her white hand with a languishing smile.
and said Pity the pangs I endure!
But no other answer ⟨could⟩ gain all the while,
than tis pity indeed to be sure.
At length little Cupid assisted my plan,
to soften the nymph to my mind;
My wishes to crown and my heart more trepan,
she soon became tender and kind.
To clurch the next day she consented to go,
suspense I no longer endure,
For wedlock s the greatest delight we can know,
'tis charming indeed, to be sure.
