English poem
Iii
by John Stephen Farmer (1854–1916)
But alas! 'tis my fear that the false Patri-coe Is reaping those transports are only my due: Retoure, my dear doxy, oh, once more retoure, And I'll do all to please thee that lies in my power: Then be kind, my dear dell, and pity my pain, And let me once more toute thy glaziers again