She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say read more

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say of her they mean
No more than on the thing they lean.

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
read more

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.

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.

'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.

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?

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With read more

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.

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!