Page:Pope's knavery, or, Old Nick's invention (1).pdf/6

6 And cruel, cruel was the ship,

that bore my love from me.

Yet I love his parents since they're his

although they’ve ruin’d me:

And I love my love, because I know

my love loves me.

O should it please the pitying powers,

to call me to the sky,

I’d claim a guardian angel’s charge,

around my love to fly,

To him from all dangers,

how happy should I be!

For I love my love, because I know

my love loves me.

make a strawy garlands

I’ll make it wondrous fine,

With roses, lillies, daises,

I'll mix the eglantine;

And I’ll present it to my love,

when he returns from sea,

For love my love, because I know

my love loves me.

O! if I was a little bird

to build upon his breast,

Or if I was a nightingale,

to sing my love to rest;

To gaze upon his lovely eyes,

all my reward shou'd be,

For I love my love, because I know

my love loves me.