'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
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'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
And one refusal no rebuff.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

"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.

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.

Thrice happy's the wooing that's not long adoing.
So much time is saved in the billing and cooing.

Thrice happy's the wooing that's not long adoing.
So much time is saved in the billing and cooing.

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?"

And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan
A lady fair.
Wha does the utmost that he read more

And let us mind, faint heart ne'er wan
A lady fair.
Wha does the utmost that he can
Will whyles do mair.

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?

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.