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CRAZY JANE.
Why, fair maid, in every feature,
Are ⟨such signs⟩ of fear exprest?
Can a wandering, wretched creature,
With such terror fill thy breast?
Do my frenzie⟨d⟩ looks alarm thee?
Trust me sweet, thy fears are vain:
Not for kingdom would I harm thee:
Shun not then poor Crazy Jane.
Dost thou weep to see my anguish?
Mark me and avoid my wo;
When men flatter sigh and languish,
Think them false,———I found them so.
For I lov’d oh so sincerely,
None could ever love again,
But the youth I lov’d so dearly
Stole the wits of Crazy Jane.
Fondly my young heart received him,
Which was doom’d to love but one;
He sigh’d he vow’d and I believ’d him,
He was false, and I undone.
