Come, oh! come, then, let us haste, When 'midst the gay 1 meet. When 'midst the gay I meet That blessed smile of thine, Though still on me it turns most sweet, Your sweet tears you show, And claim them as they flow. Then still with bright looks bless The gay, the cold, the free; Give smiles to those who love you less, But keep your tears for me. The snow on Jura's steep Can smile with many a beam, Oh! then the smile is And, melting, turns to te Then still with bright looks bless The gay, the cold, the free, Give smiles to those who love thee less, When twilight dews. When twilight dews are falling soft I watch the star whose beam so oft There's not a garden walk I tread, Some joy I've lost with thee, love! The pains, the ills we've wept through here, May turn to smiles in heaven! Will you come to the bower? Will you come to the bow'r I have shaded for you? Will you, will you, will you, will you There, under the bow'r, on roses you'll lie, With a blush on your cheek, but a smile in your eye. Will you, will you, will you, Smile, my belov'd? will you But the roses we press shall not rival your lip, And oh! for the joys that are sweeter than dew Will you, will you, will you, will you, Young Jessica. Young Jessica sat all the day In love dreams languishingly pining, Like truant genius, idly shining. Jessy, 'tis in idle hearts That love and mischief are most nimble; The safest shield against the darts Of Cupid, is Minerva's thimble. A child, who with a magnet play'd, And laughing said, "We'll steal it slily." The needle, having nought to do, Was pleas'd to let the magnet wheedle, Till closer still the tempter drew, And off, at length, eloped the needle. Now, had this needle turn'd its eye Girls, would you keep tranquil hearts, A lottery, a lottery. A lottery, a lottery, In Cupid's court there us'd to be, The highest prize, In Cupid's scheming lottery; And kisses too, As good as new, Which were not very hard to win, For he, who won The eyes of fun, Was sure to have the kisses in. Chorus. A lottery, etc. This lottery, this lottery In Cupid's court went merrily, A Jewish trade In this his scheming lottery; For hearts, I'm told, In shares he sold, To many a fond, believing drone, And cut the hearts In sixteen parts So well, each thought the whole his own! |