I Never Will Marry

As gay as a lark, and as blythe as a bee, Handsome, generous, sprightly, and young; Cheeks glowing with pleasure, eyes sparkling with glee, And a voice like the nightingale's song. As fond as a sparrow, as true as a dove, Must be the sweet swain whose vows I'll ne'er parry; Convinc'd of his constancy, give love for love, But, indeed, till I am—why I never will marry.

He ne'er with neglect his fond lass should upbraid, If by chance for a time we should part; Tho' distant, his features would run in my head, And his form ever reign is my heart: Kind fancy in dreams should his absence supply; And, believe me, I mean not much longer to tarry, For joking apart, I've a lad in my eye, Aye, indeed if I han't—why I never will marry.

O'er the lawn, t'other day, as I joyously sped Young Jemmy trip'd out not amiss, (As light as a fawn to o'ertake me his tread) Seiz'd my hand and entreated a kiss; I frown'd, he persisted, and breath'd love so sweet, That somehow I promis'd a little unwary, To church both would trip it the next time we meet: Aye, indeed if we don't—why, I never will marry.