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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.
There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four
which I know not:
The way read more
There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four
which I know not:
The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock;
the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man
with a maid.
Woo the fair one when around
Early birds are singing;
When o'er all the fragrant ground
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Woo the fair one when around
Early birds are singing;
When o'er all the fragrant ground
Early herbs are springing:
When the brookside, bank, and grove
All with blossom laden,
Shine with beauty, breathe of love,
Woo the timid maiden.
'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.
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were read more
Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
Ha, ha! the wooing o't!
"Yes," I answered you last night;
"No," this morning, sir, I say:
Colors seen by candle-light
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"Yes," I answered you last night;
"No," this morning, sir, I say:
Colors seen by candle-light
Will not look the same by day.
Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.
Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.
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.
Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?
Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?
