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Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And read more
Some are soon bagg'd but some reject three dozen.
'Tis fine to see them scattering refusals
And wild dismay, o'er every angry cousin
(Friends of the party) who begin accusals,
Such as--"Unless Miss (Blank) meant to have chosen
Poor Frederick, why did she accord perusals
To his billets? Why waltz with him? Why, I pray,
Look yes least night, and yet say No to-day?"
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and read more
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:
Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.
Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
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Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.
If man come not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage,
They cannot seek his hand.
How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
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How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
As to the pipe of Pan,
Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride
Across the fields to Anne.
'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.
'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.
After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even
forty days, each day for a read more
After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even
forty days, each day for a year, shall ye bear your iniquities,
even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of promise.
'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
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'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.
Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.
Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.
Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a lovelorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
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Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a lovelorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
In my cheek's pale hue?
All my life with sorrow strewing;
Wed or cease to woo.