Page:Soldier's dream.pdf/3



O Bell thy looks have kill’d my heart,

I pass the day in pain ;

When night returns I feel the smart,

And wish for thee in vain.

I'm starving cold, whilst thou art warm,

Have pity and incline,

And grant me for a hap that charm-

ing petticoat of thine.

My ravished fancy in amaze,

Still wanders o'er thy charms ;

Delusive dreams ten thousand ways,

Present thee to my arms.

Then waking think what I endure,

While cruel you decline,

Those pleasures, which can only cure,

This panting heart of mine.

I faint, I fail, I wildly rove,

Because you still deny,

The just reward that's due to love.

And let true passion die.

Oh! turn, and let compassion seize,

That lovely breast of thine :

Thy petticoat wad give me ease,

If thou and it were mine.

Sure Heaven has fitted for delight,

That beanteous form of thine,