Song for a Serenade, pp.17-18.

[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]

To the Tune of, The Broom of Cowdenknows

– 

TEach me, Chloe, how to prove 

My boasted flame sincere: 

‘Tis hard to tell how dear I love, 

And hard to hide my care. 

– 

Sleep in vain displays her charms, 

To bribe my soul to rest, 

Vainly spreads her silken arms, 

And courts me to her breast. 

– 

Where can Strephon find repose, 

If Chloe is not there? 

For ah! no peace his bosom knows, 

When absent from the fair. 

– 

What tho’ Phoebus from on high 

Withholds his chearful ray, 

Thine eyes can well his light supply, 

And give me more than day. 

New Words by Different Hands

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