196
why don't he come?
But I am too happy to care for my dress,
Or to bind with bright ribands the wild-waving tress,
For the fairest, and bravest, and best of the band,
Will claim, ere the morrow, this heart and this hand.
Hush! hark! far away! 'tis the bugle and drum!
Now louder and nearer—oh! why don't he come?
Or to bind with bright ribands the wild-waving tress,
For the fairest, and bravest, and best of the band,
Will claim, ere the morrow, this heart and this hand.
Hush! hark! far away! 'tis the bugle and drum!
Now louder and nearer—oh! why don't he come?
I cannot go forth with the others to claim
His smile—his caresses—I cannot for shame!
For my love is too holy, my joy is too high,
To bear the light gaze of each villager's eye;
He would think I had changed,—I should shrink from his touch,—
I should hate them to see that I love him so much.
But here! oh! how fondly I'll welcome him home!
He knows I am waiting him—why don't he come?
His smile—his caresses—I cannot for shame!
For my love is too holy, my joy is too high,
To bear the light gaze of each villager's eye;
He would think I had changed,—I should shrink from his touch,—
I should hate them to see that I love him so much.
But here! oh! how fondly I'll welcome him home!
He knows I am waiting him—why don't he come?
Perhaps cousin Mabel has seen him ere this,—
She would not be bashful at claiming a kiss;
How exulting she look'd as she join'd the gay gifts,
With those red berries wreathing her shadowy curls!
It is true all the lads say her smile is divine,
But I don't think her eyes are so pretty as mine;—
So black and so bold! and they dazzle one so!
My Willie loves blue eyes and light hair, I know:
She would not be bashful at claiming a kiss;
How exulting she look'd as she join'd the gay gifts,
With those red berries wreathing her shadowy curls!
It is true all the lads say her smile is divine,
But I don't think her eyes are so pretty as mine;—
So black and so bold! and they dazzle one so!
My Willie loves blue eyes and light hair, I know:
