THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCLVI

I Am a young Virgin, that oft have been told, I should try to get marry'd before I'm too old: I took the Advice, and got one in my Eye, Whom if I can't have, I'm afraid I shall die.

Young Thyrsis is witty, well, featur'd, and tall, His Fellow Swains own that he out-does 'em all: When first I beheld him, I cannot tell why, I thought I was going that Moment to die.

If through the Recesses of yon silent Grove, Or over the Meadows, I happen to rove, And see my dear Shepherd at Distance pass by, I tremble all o'er, and am ready to die.

When he plays on his Pipe to the Lambkins around; I fly to the Place where I hear the blest Sound; O Thyrsis! sweet Youth! to myself then I cry, I'd listen to thee, were I going to die.

Last Saturday Eve, (I remember the Day) I caught him saluting Clarinda the gay; That I envy'd each Kiss, I will never deny. And fervently pray'd that my Rival might die.

Come. Hymen, and lend a young Virgin an Aid, Who, without your Assistance, must die an old Maid; To all my fond Wishes make Thyrsis comply, And if I don't have him, I wish I may die.