Love Songs, &c, SONG

Were I oblig'd to beg my bread, And had not where to lay my head; I'd creep where yonder herds are fed, And steal a look at somebody.

Ah, should my love meet with return, I'll bless the day that I was born, And never more would sigh forlorn, But live to look at somebody.

With him I'd tend my fleecy care, With him each anxious wish I'd share, And only ask that I might bear, The name of my dear somebody.