[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
She raise and loot me in.
–
THE night her silent sable wore,
And gloomy were the skies;
Of glitt’ring stars appear’d no more
Than those in Nelly’s eyes.
When at her father’s yate I knock’d,
Where I had often been,
She shrowded only with her smock
Arose and loot me in.
–
Fast lock’d within her close embrace,
She trembling stood asham’d;
Her swelling breast and glowing face,
And ev’ry touch enflam’d.
My eager passion I obey’d,
Resolv’d the fort to win;
And her fond heart was soon betray’d
To yield and let me in.
–
Then then, beyond expressing,
Transporting was the joy;
I knew no greater blessing,
So blest a man was I.
And she, all ravisht with delight,
Bid me oft come again;
And kindly vow’d that ev’ry night
She’d rise and let me in.
–
But ah! at last she prov’d with bairn,
And sighing sat and dull,
And I that was as much concern’d,
Look’d e’en just like a fool.
Her lovely eyes with tears ran o’er,
Repenting her rash sin:
She sigh’d, and curs’d the fatal hour,
That e’er she loot me in.
–
But who cou’d cruelly deceive,
Or from such beauty part:
I lov’d her so, I could not leave
The charmer of my heart;
But wedded, and conceal’d our crime:
Thus all was well again,
And now she thanks the happy time
That e’er she loot me in.
– Old Songs.
