To the Tune of, John Anderson my Jo.
WHAT means this niceness now of late,
Since time that truth does prove!
Such distance may consist with state,
But never will with love.
‘Tis either cunning or disdain
That does such ways allow;
The first is base, the last is vain:
May neither happen you.
For if it be to draw me on,
You over act your part;
And if it be to have me gone,
You need not haff that art:
For if you chance a look to cast,
That seems to be a frown,
I’ll give you all the love that’s past,
The rest shall be my own.