5
She wrote of love with such sweet art,
She read, and sigh'd, and lost her heart.
Archly jeering, Love was there,
And cried, Of Fancy, maids, beware.
The Forester's Daughter.
Jenny has been to the village,
And brought home a present from Harry;
But though her affection he'd pillage,
Blithe Jenny he never shall marry:
For though she has taken, to vex me,
The ribbon he artfully bought her,
She did it in joke to perplex me,
Sweet Jenny, the forester's daughter.
Jenny has been to the gipsy,
Who told her we‘re off, and for ever;
But sure the imposter was tipsy,
As nothing two fond hearts can sever.
For though we have tiff'd, when I meet her,
I’ll prove like a lover I've caught her;
And the making-up kiss will be sweeter,
With Jenny, the forester's daughter.
Jenny has cows half-a-dozen,
And mine are the sheep in the valley;
And though not so rich as her cousin,
She's sweeter in temper than Sally:
And soon, very soon, we shall marry,
Though many more wealthy have sought her;
And then he may whistle, poor Harry!
For Jenny the foresters daughter.
