TO little or no purpose I spent many days,
In ranging the Park, th' Exchange, and the plays;
For ne'er in my rambles, till now, did I prove,
So lucky to meet with the man I could love.
Oh! how I am pleased when I think on this man,
That I find must love, let me do what I can.
That I find, &c.
How long I shall love him, I can no more tell,
Than had I a fever, when I should be well.
My passion shall kill me, before I will show it:
And yet I would give all the world he did know it.
But oh! how I sigh, when I think, should he woo me,
I cannot deny what, I know, would undo me.
I cannot deny what, &c.
