Love Without Return

Where are those hours fled That us'd to yield delight, My days with pleasure sped, And sweet repose at night; Within the shaded cot, Which stands on yonder lea, It was, alas, my lot My Mary first to see.

Ah, were her love like mine, How happy had I been, Crown'd with such bliss divine, While Mary reign'd my queen; But she increas'd my woe, While at her feet I sigh'd, Disdain sat on her brow, Which all my love defy'd.

If beauty makes her vain, My Mary sure is wrong, For, ah, who can retain, Or boast of beauty long? My love is so sincere, Should time her charms disguise, I'd love my Mary, dear, 'Till death enclos'd my eyes.