14
Sigh not that blossoms are so fleeting,
But seize the treasure, though soon ’twill fade
Thus like a summer’s day so gay,
Life’s bloom will gently fly,
Come then, young lovers, pray,
And of poor Sally buy.
The Lass Of Richmond Hill.
On Richmond Hill there lives a lass,
More bright than May-day morn,
Whose charms all other maids surpass,
A rose without a thorn.
This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet,
Has won my right good will:
I'd crowns resign to call her mine,
Sweet lass of Richmond Hill.
Ye zephyrs gay that fan the air,
And wanton through the grove,
O, wisper to my charming fair,
I die for her I love.
This lass so neat, &c.
How happy will the shepherd be,
Who calls this nymph his own!
O, may her choice be fixed on me.
Mine's fix'd on her alone.
This lass so neat, &c.
