To the Tune of, I loo’d a bonny Lady.
TELL me, tell me charming creature,
Will you never ease my pain?
Must I die for every feature?
Must I always love in vain?
The desire of admiration
Is the pleasure you pursue:
Pray thee try a lasting passion,
Such a love as mine for you.
Tears and sighing could not move you;
For a lover ought to dare:
When I plainly told I lov’d you,
Then you said I went too far.
Are such giddy ways beseeming?
Will my dear be fickle still?
Conquest is the joy of women,
Let their slaves be what they will.
Your neglect with torment fills me,
And my desp’rate thoughts increase;
Pray consider, if you kill me,
You will have a lover less.
If your wand’ring heart is beating
For new lovers, let it be:
But when you have done coquetting,
Name a day, and fix on me.