Oh! could I hear thee once declare,That fond affection lives for me!Oh! could I once delighted shareThe sweet return of love from thee!I, who no other object knowWhich could my heart from thee estrange,Confess a love which joy or woe,Or life or death, could never change.
Oh! could I hear thee once declare,That fond affection lives for me!Oh! could I once delighted shareThe sweet return of love from thee!I, who no other object knowWhich could my heart from thee estrange,Confess a love which joy or woe,Or life or death, could never change.
Oh! could I hear thee once declare,That fond affection lives for me!Oh! could I once delighted shareThe sweet return of love from thee!
Oh! could I hear thee once declare,
That fond affection lives for me!
Oh! could I once delighted share
The sweet return of love from thee!
I, who no other object knowWhich could my heart from thee estrange,Confess a love which joy or woe,Or life or death, could never change.
I, who no other object know
Which could my heart from thee estrange,
Confess a love which joy or woe,
Or life or death, could never change.
My love to thee I fain would prove,But can a letter speak my love?Or can a pledge so small revealA passion which I can’t conceal?No; love by trifles, thus exprest,Shows but the shade of love at best.
My love to thee I fain would prove,But can a letter speak my love?Or can a pledge so small revealA passion which I can’t conceal?No; love by trifles, thus exprest,Shows but the shade of love at best.
My love to thee I fain would prove,But can a letter speak my love?Or can a pledge so small revealA passion which I can’t conceal?No; love by trifles, thus exprest,Shows but the shade of love at best.
My love to thee I fain would prove,
But can a letter speak my love?
Or can a pledge so small reveal
A passion which I can’t conceal?
No; love by trifles, thus exprest,
Shows but the shade of love at best.
Sweet are the thoughts, when true love burnsWithin a faithful breast;And sweet’s the love that meets returnsBy grateful love confest.
Sweet are the thoughts, when true love burnsWithin a faithful breast;And sweet’s the love that meets returnsBy grateful love confest.
Sweet are the thoughts, when true love burnsWithin a faithful breast;And sweet’s the love that meets returnsBy grateful love confest.
Sweet are the thoughts, when true love burns
Within a faithful breast;
And sweet’s the love that meets returns
By grateful love confest.
Could you persuade the constant doveTo leave his mate, inconstant prove,And lonely thro’ the woodlands rove,I might deceive the girl I love;But ne’er till then will I agreeTo quit my love, to part with thee.
Could you persuade the constant doveTo leave his mate, inconstant prove,And lonely thro’ the woodlands rove,I might deceive the girl I love;But ne’er till then will I agreeTo quit my love, to part with thee.
Could you persuade the constant doveTo leave his mate, inconstant prove,And lonely thro’ the woodlands rove,I might deceive the girl I love;But ne’er till then will I agreeTo quit my love, to part with thee.
Could you persuade the constant dove
To leave his mate, inconstant prove,
And lonely thro’ the woodlands rove,
I might deceive the girl I love;
But ne’er till then will I agree
To quit my love, to part with thee.
MypencilI would take in handTopainta face so fair,But all the skill I can commandIs useless I declare:My blendedcolourswhen I viewAnd think upon thy face,Carmineandpearl, at sight of you,Must hold a distant place;Yet if yourportraityou will find,Then with my wish comply,Come hither, and, to ease my mind,You’ll find it in each eye;But far more perfect in my heartIs that dear form of thine,Then let me share an equal partWith thee, sweet Valentine.
MypencilI would take in handTopainta face so fair,But all the skill I can commandIs useless I declare:My blendedcolourswhen I viewAnd think upon thy face,Carmineandpearl, at sight of you,Must hold a distant place;Yet if yourportraityou will find,Then with my wish comply,Come hither, and, to ease my mind,You’ll find it in each eye;But far more perfect in my heartIs that dear form of thine,Then let me share an equal partWith thee, sweet Valentine.
MypencilI would take in handTopainta face so fair,But all the skill I can commandIs useless I declare:My blendedcolourswhen I viewAnd think upon thy face,Carmineandpearl, at sight of you,Must hold a distant place;Yet if yourportraityou will find,Then with my wish comply,Come hither, and, to ease my mind,You’ll find it in each eye;But far more perfect in my heartIs that dear form of thine,Then let me share an equal partWith thee, sweet Valentine.
MypencilI would take in hand
Topainta face so fair,
But all the skill I can command
Is useless I declare:
My blendedcolourswhen I view
And think upon thy face,
Carmineandpearl, at sight of you,
Must hold a distant place;
Yet if yourportraityou will find,
Then with my wish comply,
Come hither, and, to ease my mind,
You’ll find it in each eye;
But far more perfect in my heart
Is that dear form of thine,
Then let me share an equal part
With thee, sweet Valentine.
What can I say to things so fine,Which you have sent to me,For, such a pretty ValentineI ne’er before did see?Who would have thought this homely faceCould thus defy your art,And that mypictureyou could traceNo where but in your heart?If flattery can a female please,You’re master ofdesign,Thatpencilyou can use with ease,MypaintingValentine.
What can I say to things so fine,Which you have sent to me,For, such a pretty ValentineI ne’er before did see?Who would have thought this homely faceCould thus defy your art,And that mypictureyou could traceNo where but in your heart?If flattery can a female please,You’re master ofdesign,Thatpencilyou can use with ease,MypaintingValentine.
What can I say to things so fine,Which you have sent to me,For, such a pretty ValentineI ne’er before did see?Who would have thought this homely faceCould thus defy your art,And that mypictureyou could traceNo where but in your heart?If flattery can a female please,You’re master ofdesign,Thatpencilyou can use with ease,MypaintingValentine.
What can I say to things so fine,
Which you have sent to me,
For, such a pretty Valentine
I ne’er before did see?
Who would have thought this homely face
Could thus defy your art,
And that mypictureyou could trace
No where but in your heart?
If flattery can a female please,
You’re master ofdesign,
Thatpencilyou can use with ease,
MypaintingValentine.
My barley is fine, and good my kiln,In making malt, none has more skill,And though my horses oft are blind,My love to you is not, you’ll find;What, tho’ my granary is well fill’d,As any maltster e’er beheld;Yet, what is all this store to me,Unless that I could purchase thee?Come, then, and all my malt command,I’ll put the staff into your hand,My barley, every grain, be thine,As you I’ve chose my Valentine.
My barley is fine, and good my kiln,In making malt, none has more skill,And though my horses oft are blind,My love to you is not, you’ll find;What, tho’ my granary is well fill’d,As any maltster e’er beheld;Yet, what is all this store to me,Unless that I could purchase thee?Come, then, and all my malt command,I’ll put the staff into your hand,My barley, every grain, be thine,As you I’ve chose my Valentine.
My barley is fine, and good my kiln,In making malt, none has more skill,And though my horses oft are blind,My love to you is not, you’ll find;What, tho’ my granary is well fill’d,As any maltster e’er beheld;Yet, what is all this store to me,Unless that I could purchase thee?Come, then, and all my malt command,I’ll put the staff into your hand,My barley, every grain, be thine,As you I’ve chose my Valentine.
My barley is fine, and good my kiln,
In making malt, none has more skill,
And though my horses oft are blind,
My love to you is not, you’ll find;
What, tho’ my granary is well fill’d,
As any maltster e’er beheld;
Yet, what is all this store to me,
Unless that I could purchase thee?
Come, then, and all my malt command,
I’ll put the staff into your hand,
My barley, every grain, be thine,
As you I’ve chose my Valentine.
I do not doubt your malt is good,Your skill by all is understood;The humming beer thro’ all the town,Has fix’d on high your just renown.But why I should your grain command,I own I do not understand,For I your barley cannot dry,Nor yet your blind horse supply;So to your wish I can’t incline,Adieu, then, Master Valentine.
I do not doubt your malt is good,Your skill by all is understood;The humming beer thro’ all the town,Has fix’d on high your just renown.But why I should your grain command,I own I do not understand,For I your barley cannot dry,Nor yet your blind horse supply;So to your wish I can’t incline,Adieu, then, Master Valentine.
I do not doubt your malt is good,Your skill by all is understood;The humming beer thro’ all the town,Has fix’d on high your just renown.But why I should your grain command,I own I do not understand,For I your barley cannot dry,Nor yet your blind horse supply;So to your wish I can’t incline,Adieu, then, Master Valentine.
I do not doubt your malt is good,
Your skill by all is understood;
The humming beer thro’ all the town,
Has fix’d on high your just renown.
But why I should your grain command,
I own I do not understand,
For I your barley cannot dry,
Nor yet your blind horse supply;
So to your wish I can’t incline,
Adieu, then, Master Valentine.
Jenny, whene’er you roast or boil,You make my heart within me broil;Or when you’re at those pleasing arts,Of making puddings, pies, or tarts,I lick my lips at such good cheer,And call you then, my life and dear;What, though with grease your garments shine,Yet you must be my Valentine.
Jenny, whene’er you roast or boil,You make my heart within me broil;Or when you’re at those pleasing arts,Of making puddings, pies, or tarts,I lick my lips at such good cheer,And call you then, my life and dear;What, though with grease your garments shine,Yet you must be my Valentine.
Jenny, whene’er you roast or boil,You make my heart within me broil;Or when you’re at those pleasing arts,Of making puddings, pies, or tarts,I lick my lips at such good cheer,And call you then, my life and dear;What, though with grease your garments shine,Yet you must be my Valentine.
Jenny, whene’er you roast or boil,
You make my heart within me broil;
Or when you’re at those pleasing arts,
Of making puddings, pies, or tarts,
I lick my lips at such good cheer,
And call you then, my life and dear;
What, though with grease your garments shine,
Yet you must be my Valentine.
Go, mind your horses in the stable,You ne’er shall sit with me at table;For your own words do plainly proveYou’ve nothing more than cupboard loveSo I beg you will your suit decline,For you ne’er shall be my Valentine.
Go, mind your horses in the stable,You ne’er shall sit with me at table;For your own words do plainly proveYou’ve nothing more than cupboard loveSo I beg you will your suit decline,For you ne’er shall be my Valentine.
Go, mind your horses in the stable,You ne’er shall sit with me at table;For your own words do plainly proveYou’ve nothing more than cupboard loveSo I beg you will your suit decline,For you ne’er shall be my Valentine.
Go, mind your horses in the stable,
You ne’er shall sit with me at table;
For your own words do plainly prove
You’ve nothing more than cupboard love
So I beg you will your suit decline,
For you ne’er shall be my Valentine.
Whenever I’m mending a shoe,Ev’ry thing in my stall that I view,To my doating remembrance brings you,While my heart in my bosom goes thump.The bestcallimanco’syour hair,Yourskinis theliningso fair,Myawlto youreyesI compare,That wounded the heart of poor Clump.Yourteeth, which like ivory show,Are thepegsin a white even row,Which I drive, while at every blowMy heart in my bosom goes thump.Each object of you seems a part,Your wit, that’s so piercing and smart,Is myknife, but mylapstoneyour heart,Which will not let you pity poor Clump.
Whenever I’m mending a shoe,Ev’ry thing in my stall that I view,To my doating remembrance brings you,While my heart in my bosom goes thump.The bestcallimanco’syour hair,Yourskinis theliningso fair,Myawlto youreyesI compare,That wounded the heart of poor Clump.Yourteeth, which like ivory show,Are thepegsin a white even row,Which I drive, while at every blowMy heart in my bosom goes thump.Each object of you seems a part,Your wit, that’s so piercing and smart,Is myknife, but mylapstoneyour heart,Which will not let you pity poor Clump.
Whenever I’m mending a shoe,Ev’ry thing in my stall that I view,To my doating remembrance brings you,While my heart in my bosom goes thump.
Whenever I’m mending a shoe,
Ev’ry thing in my stall that I view,
To my doating remembrance brings you,
While my heart in my bosom goes thump.
The bestcallimanco’syour hair,Yourskinis theliningso fair,Myawlto youreyesI compare,That wounded the heart of poor Clump.
The bestcallimanco’syour hair,
Yourskinis theliningso fair,
Myawlto youreyesI compare,
That wounded the heart of poor Clump.
Yourteeth, which like ivory show,Are thepegsin a white even row,Which I drive, while at every blowMy heart in my bosom goes thump.
Yourteeth, which like ivory show,
Are thepegsin a white even row,
Which I drive, while at every blow
My heart in my bosom goes thump.
Each object of you seems a part,Your wit, that’s so piercing and smart,Is myknife, but mylapstoneyour heart,Which will not let you pity poor Clump.
Each object of you seems a part,
Your wit, that’s so piercing and smart,
Is myknife, but mylapstoneyour heart,
Which will not let you pity poor Clump.
Mr. Clump, I would have you to know,That your stuff will only work woe,As to all cobblers I’m a terrible foe,And so writes Kitty O’Grizzle.With yourawlyou maypegtillall’sblue,And with knife cutold solesin two,For I will have nothing to do,But only with Tommy O’Twizzle.So now, Clump, gostichyour leather,Andwaxthetwo odd endstogether,For either in foul or fair weather,I’ll cuddle with Tommy O’Twizzle.Each night and each morn I’ll entwine,As close as the wax to the line,About and around my own Valentine,My jewel, my boy, my Tommy O’Twizzle.
Mr. Clump, I would have you to know,That your stuff will only work woe,As to all cobblers I’m a terrible foe,And so writes Kitty O’Grizzle.With yourawlyou maypegtillall’sblue,And with knife cutold solesin two,For I will have nothing to do,But only with Tommy O’Twizzle.So now, Clump, gostichyour leather,Andwaxthetwo odd endstogether,For either in foul or fair weather,I’ll cuddle with Tommy O’Twizzle.Each night and each morn I’ll entwine,As close as the wax to the line,About and around my own Valentine,My jewel, my boy, my Tommy O’Twizzle.
Mr. Clump, I would have you to know,That your stuff will only work woe,As to all cobblers I’m a terrible foe,And so writes Kitty O’Grizzle.
Mr. Clump, I would have you to know,
That your stuff will only work woe,
As to all cobblers I’m a terrible foe,
And so writes Kitty O’Grizzle.
With yourawlyou maypegtillall’sblue,And with knife cutold solesin two,For I will have nothing to do,But only with Tommy O’Twizzle.
With yourawlyou maypegtillall’sblue,
And with knife cutold solesin two,
For I will have nothing to do,
But only with Tommy O’Twizzle.
So now, Clump, gostichyour leather,Andwaxthetwo odd endstogether,For either in foul or fair weather,I’ll cuddle with Tommy O’Twizzle.
So now, Clump, gostichyour leather,
Andwaxthetwo odd endstogether,
For either in foul or fair weather,
I’ll cuddle with Tommy O’Twizzle.
Each night and each morn I’ll entwine,As close as the wax to the line,About and around my own Valentine,My jewel, my boy, my Tommy O’Twizzle.
Each night and each morn I’ll entwine,
As close as the wax to the line,
About and around my own Valentine,
My jewel, my boy, my Tommy O’Twizzle.
Say, dearest girl, wilt thou inclineTo mingle faithful love with mine?To plight the fond endearing vow,Of constant loves, as I do now?
Say, dearest girl, wilt thou inclineTo mingle faithful love with mine?To plight the fond endearing vow,Of constant loves, as I do now?
Say, dearest girl, wilt thou inclineTo mingle faithful love with mine?To plight the fond endearing vow,Of constant loves, as I do now?
Say, dearest girl, wilt thou incline
To mingle faithful love with mine?
To plight the fond endearing vow,
Of constant loves, as I do now?
Like to abeaversoft and fine,Such is your skin, sweet Valentine;As fine as anydownyour hair,Which ever made a hat to wear;Were I abeaver hatfor thee’Twould suit my wishes to a T;When on your head I then did shine,How blest would be your Valentine!Oh! let me grace your pretty head,There, with anostrich-feather, spread,How grand would be the lot of mine,To call you dearest Valentine!
Like to abeaversoft and fine,Such is your skin, sweet Valentine;As fine as anydownyour hair,Which ever made a hat to wear;Were I abeaver hatfor thee’Twould suit my wishes to a T;When on your head I then did shine,How blest would be your Valentine!Oh! let me grace your pretty head,There, with anostrich-feather, spread,How grand would be the lot of mine,To call you dearest Valentine!
Like to abeaversoft and fine,Such is your skin, sweet Valentine;As fine as anydownyour hair,Which ever made a hat to wear;Were I abeaver hatfor thee’Twould suit my wishes to a T;When on your head I then did shine,How blest would be your Valentine!Oh! let me grace your pretty head,There, with anostrich-feather, spread,How grand would be the lot of mine,To call you dearest Valentine!
Like to abeaversoft and fine,
Such is your skin, sweet Valentine;
As fine as anydownyour hair,
Which ever made a hat to wear;
Were I abeaver hatfor thee
’Twould suit my wishes to a T;
When on your head I then did shine,
How blest would be your Valentine!
Oh! let me grace your pretty head,
There, with anostrich-feather, spread,
How grand would be the lot of mine,
To call you dearest Valentine!
Why, how now, Hatter,What’s the matter?Have you broke from Bedlam late?Thus to rave,You saucy knave,Pray leave off such idle prate;HatandfeatherTake together,Them and you I must decline;So mind your trade,You dirty blade,I will not be your Valentine.
Why, how now, Hatter,What’s the matter?Have you broke from Bedlam late?Thus to rave,You saucy knave,Pray leave off such idle prate;HatandfeatherTake together,Them and you I must decline;So mind your trade,You dirty blade,I will not be your Valentine.
Why, how now, Hatter,What’s the matter?Have you broke from Bedlam late?Thus to rave,You saucy knave,Pray leave off such idle prate;HatandfeatherTake together,Them and you I must decline;So mind your trade,You dirty blade,I will not be your Valentine.
Why, how now, Hatter,
What’s the matter?
Have you broke from Bedlam late?
Thus to rave,
You saucy knave,
Pray leave off such idle prate;
Hatandfeather
Take together,
Them and you I must decline;
So mind your trade,
You dirty blade,
I will not be your Valentine.
Though I’m a Tanner by my trade,Yet, Valentine, don’t be afraid,Tho’ often hides I tan, ’tis true,I ne’er will tan the hide of you:The bark and lime that’s in the pit,May tan the outside of my wit,And keep my heart quite stout for youMuch more than other trades can do;Besides, mine is a useful trade,Since, without me, no shoes are made;Then let your heart to me incline,And I am, with love, your Valentine.
Though I’m a Tanner by my trade,Yet, Valentine, don’t be afraid,Tho’ often hides I tan, ’tis true,I ne’er will tan the hide of you:The bark and lime that’s in the pit,May tan the outside of my wit,And keep my heart quite stout for youMuch more than other trades can do;Besides, mine is a useful trade,Since, without me, no shoes are made;Then let your heart to me incline,And I am, with love, your Valentine.
Though I’m a Tanner by my trade,Yet, Valentine, don’t be afraid,Tho’ often hides I tan, ’tis true,I ne’er will tan the hide of you:The bark and lime that’s in the pit,May tan the outside of my wit,And keep my heart quite stout for youMuch more than other trades can do;Besides, mine is a useful trade,Since, without me, no shoes are made;Then let your heart to me incline,And I am, with love, your Valentine.
Though I’m a Tanner by my trade,
Yet, Valentine, don’t be afraid,
Tho’ often hides I tan, ’tis true,
I ne’er will tan the hide of you:
The bark and lime that’s in the pit,
May tan the outside of my wit,
And keep my heart quite stout for you
Much more than other trades can do;
Besides, mine is a useful trade,
Since, without me, no shoes are made;
Then let your heart to me incline,
And I am, with love, your Valentine.
Tho’ you in my heart, Mr. Tanner, would glide,I fear that you will tan my hide,Which sure would kill this heart of mine,If e’er you should, my Valentine.Useful’s your art, I own ’tis true,In making leather for the shoe;But may not yet that useful artAs hard as leather tan your heart?Howe’er, I’ll not inconstant prove,But boldly venture on my love:So tenderly your heart incline,And be my gentle Valentine.
Tho’ you in my heart, Mr. Tanner, would glide,I fear that you will tan my hide,Which sure would kill this heart of mine,If e’er you should, my Valentine.Useful’s your art, I own ’tis true,In making leather for the shoe;But may not yet that useful artAs hard as leather tan your heart?Howe’er, I’ll not inconstant prove,But boldly venture on my love:So tenderly your heart incline,And be my gentle Valentine.
Tho’ you in my heart, Mr. Tanner, would glide,I fear that you will tan my hide,Which sure would kill this heart of mine,If e’er you should, my Valentine.Useful’s your art, I own ’tis true,In making leather for the shoe;But may not yet that useful artAs hard as leather tan your heart?Howe’er, I’ll not inconstant prove,But boldly venture on my love:So tenderly your heart incline,And be my gentle Valentine.
Tho’ you in my heart, Mr. Tanner, would glide,
I fear that you will tan my hide,
Which sure would kill this heart of mine,
If e’er you should, my Valentine.
Useful’s your art, I own ’tis true,
In making leather for the shoe;
But may not yet that useful art
As hard as leather tan your heart?
Howe’er, I’ll not inconstant prove,
But boldly venture on my love:
So tenderly your heart incline,
And be my gentle Valentine.
My Valentine, my lovely maid,Kind, gentle, fair and free,In all thy sex’s charms array’dHow few are found like thee!Thy image always fills my mind,So may your heart approve,Since fix’d to thee, alone, I findI need no other love.
My Valentine, my lovely maid,Kind, gentle, fair and free,In all thy sex’s charms array’dHow few are found like thee!Thy image always fills my mind,So may your heart approve,Since fix’d to thee, alone, I findI need no other love.
My Valentine, my lovely maid,Kind, gentle, fair and free,In all thy sex’s charms array’dHow few are found like thee!
My Valentine, my lovely maid,
Kind, gentle, fair and free,
In all thy sex’s charms array’d
How few are found like thee!
Thy image always fills my mind,So may your heart approve,Since fix’d to thee, alone, I findI need no other love.
Thy image always fills my mind,
So may your heart approve,
Since fix’d to thee, alone, I find
I need no other love.
Appointments often you’ve mistook,So I send a memorandum book;The days, weeks, and months you’ll see,As handy, Miss, as they can be.To suit it to your mind the better,There is a case to hold a letter,With other things of good design,And fit for you, my Valentine.
Appointments often you’ve mistook,So I send a memorandum book;The days, weeks, and months you’ll see,As handy, Miss, as they can be.To suit it to your mind the better,There is a case to hold a letter,With other things of good design,And fit for you, my Valentine.
Appointments often you’ve mistook,So I send a memorandum book;The days, weeks, and months you’ll see,As handy, Miss, as they can be.To suit it to your mind the better,There is a case to hold a letter,With other things of good design,And fit for you, my Valentine.
Appointments often you’ve mistook,
So I send a memorandum book;
The days, weeks, and months you’ll see,
As handy, Miss, as they can be.
To suit it to your mind the better,
There is a case to hold a letter,
With other things of good design,
And fit for you, my Valentine.
Your present is of use, I find,And is quite artfully design’d,To put me still in mind of you;Say, Valentine, is it not true?Well, I will try to do my best,And set you down among the rest.
Your present is of use, I find,And is quite artfully design’d,To put me still in mind of you;Say, Valentine, is it not true?Well, I will try to do my best,And set you down among the rest.
Your present is of use, I find,And is quite artfully design’d,To put me still in mind of you;Say, Valentine, is it not true?Well, I will try to do my best,And set you down among the rest.
Your present is of use, I find,
And is quite artfully design’d,
To put me still in mind of you;
Say, Valentine, is it not true?
Well, I will try to do my best,
And set you down among the rest.
Though I each day well dress my leather,I often wish we were together;For you alone have gain’d my heart,And stripp’d myskinof ev’ry art.In vain Icolour,shave, andcut,You to mytramphave surely put.Mywaxis hard, mypasteis spoil’d,You mygood soulshave all beguil’d.O then,sweetheart, to me incline,And bless your constant Valentine.
Though I each day well dress my leather,I often wish we were together;For you alone have gain’d my heart,And stripp’d myskinof ev’ry art.In vain Icolour,shave, andcut,You to mytramphave surely put.Mywaxis hard, mypasteis spoil’d,You mygood soulshave all beguil’d.O then,sweetheart, to me incline,And bless your constant Valentine.
Though I each day well dress my leather,I often wish we were together;For you alone have gain’d my heart,And stripp’d myskinof ev’ry art.In vain Icolour,shave, andcut,You to mytramphave surely put.Mywaxis hard, mypasteis spoil’d,You mygood soulshave all beguil’d.O then,sweetheart, to me incline,And bless your constant Valentine.
Though I each day well dress my leather,
I often wish we were together;
For you alone have gain’d my heart,
And stripp’d myskinof ev’ry art.
In vain Icolour,shave, andcut,
You to mytramphave surely put.
Mywaxis hard, mypasteis spoil’d,
You mygood soulshave all beguil’d.
O then,sweetheart, to me incline,
And bless your constant Valentine.
Youcutter-upof manysouls,And cause of diversendsandholes;Youmixer,dauber, pray be quiet,Nor in my heart kick up a riot;Be not in haste, good master Leather,And we mayhap may come together.Therefore, in hope, believe I’m thine,As you prove true, good Valentine.
Youcutter-upof manysouls,And cause of diversendsandholes;Youmixer,dauber, pray be quiet,Nor in my heart kick up a riot;Be not in haste, good master Leather,And we mayhap may come together.Therefore, in hope, believe I’m thine,As you prove true, good Valentine.
Youcutter-upof manysouls,And cause of diversendsandholes;Youmixer,dauber, pray be quiet,Nor in my heart kick up a riot;Be not in haste, good master Leather,And we mayhap may come together.Therefore, in hope, believe I’m thine,As you prove true, good Valentine.
Youcutter-upof manysouls,
And cause of diversendsandholes;
Youmixer,dauber, pray be quiet,
Nor in my heart kick up a riot;
Be not in haste, good master Leather,
And we mayhap may come together.
Therefore, in hope, believe I’m thine,
As you prove true, good Valentine.
My dear, with this I blow a kiss,As earnest of our future bliss;I have not time to tell you more,But you alone I do adore.
My dear, with this I blow a kiss,As earnest of our future bliss;I have not time to tell you more,But you alone I do adore.
My dear, with this I blow a kiss,As earnest of our future bliss;I have not time to tell you more,But you alone I do adore.
My dear, with this I blow a kiss,
As earnest of our future bliss;
I have not time to tell you more,
But you alone I do adore.
Yours I receiv’d, and if ’tis bliss,With this take back a loving kiss.A faithful heart who can refuse,An honest hand who would not choose.I accept both, and vow I’m thine,Your constant loving Valentine.
Yours I receiv’d, and if ’tis bliss,With this take back a loving kiss.A faithful heart who can refuse,An honest hand who would not choose.I accept both, and vow I’m thine,Your constant loving Valentine.
Yours I receiv’d, and if ’tis bliss,With this take back a loving kiss.A faithful heart who can refuse,An honest hand who would not choose.I accept both, and vow I’m thine,Your constant loving Valentine.
Yours I receiv’d, and if ’tis bliss,
With this take back a loving kiss.
A faithful heart who can refuse,
An honest hand who would not choose.
I accept both, and vow I’m thine,
Your constant loving Valentine.
FINIS.
Printed by Thomas Richardson, Derby.