English poem
THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXVIII
by Anonymous
Sylvia, wilt thou waste thy Prime, Stranger to the Joys of Love? Thou hast Youth, and that's the Time Ev'ry Minute to improve: Round thee wilt thou never hear Little wanton Girls and Boys Sweetly sounding in thy Ear, Infant's Prate and Mother's Joys?
Only view that little Dove, Softly cooing to his Mate; As farther Proof of Love, See her for his Kisses wait: Hark! that charming Nightingale, As he flies from Spray to Spray, Sweetly tunes an am'rous Tale, I love, I love, he strives to say.
Could I to thy Soul reveal But the least, the thousandth Part, Of those Pleasures Lovers feel, In a mutual Change of Heart; Then, repenting, wouldst thou say, Virgin Fears, from hence remove, All the Time is thrown away, That we do not spend in Love.
More by Anonymous
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXIX
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXLIV
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXLIX
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXVII
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXXI
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXXII
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXXIII
- THE American Mock-Bird, OR SONGSTER's DELIGHT, SONG CCXXV