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THE UNHAPPY LOVER.
FArewel the sweet pleasures of loving,
the flowers and meadows so gay,
Where first my poor heart was deluded,
and by a false man stole away.
'Tis hard for young maids to believe 'em,
for young men flatter and lie,
Their pleasure is to be deceiving,
all for a young man I must die.
When first they begin to adore you,
if you but their offers should slight,
They would form ten thousand stories,
and swear they are ruined quite.
They'll make you a thousand kind presents,
on purpose your heart to betray
Young virgins take care of delusion,
and let not your hearts go astray.
They well know young virgins do love them,
indeed they are naturally prone;
For a man is a glorious creature,
'tis a pity so false they are grown.
Their hearts are like snakes among flow'rs,
that hide from the sight of the sun,
That maiden that doats on her lover,
is surely for ever undone.
