DUET. ('Tis true that oft, in the same…)

'Tis true that oft, in the same mead, We both have led our flocks to feed, Where by each other's side we've sat;

Alas! there was no harm in that.

'Tis true for thee this cot I rose, Where thou tak'st pleasure to repose; For which I found the greenest plat;

Alas! there was no harm in that.

'Tis true when tired thou fain would rest, And thy dear lips to mine I've press'd, Thy breath, so sweet! I've wondered at:

Alas! there was no harm in that.

Ah, but 'tis true, when thou hast slept, Closer and closer have I crept; And while my heart went pit-a-pat—

Alas! there was no harm in that.