Page:Lass of fair wone, or, The parson's daugter (sic) betrayed.pdf/4

 The words he whisper'd were so soft, They won her ear and heart: How soon will she, who loves, believe! How deep a lover's art!

No lure, no smoothing guise he spar'd, To banish virtuous shame; He call'd on holy God above, As witness to his flame.

He clasp'd her to his breast, and swore To be for ever true: 'O yield thee to my wishful arms, Thy choice thou shalt not rue,'

And while she strove, he drew her on, And led her to the bower So still, so dim- and round about Sweet smell'd the beans in flower.

There beat her heart, and heav'd her breast, And pleaded every sense: And there the growing breath of lust Did blast her innocence.

But when the fragrant beans began, Their sallow blooms to shed, Her sparkling eyes their lustre lost; Her cheek, its roses fled.

And when she saw the pods increase, The ruddier cherries stain, She felt her silken robe grow tight; Her waist new weight sustain.