I NEVER LOV'D ANY, DEAR MARY, BUT YOU.
��YOU fay, my dear girl, that I'm given to roam, And fport with each lafs on the green ; That I join in the dance and fing fonnets of love,
And frill with the faireft I'm feen ; With my hey derry down, and my ho down derry, Among the green meadows fo blith and fo merry ; With black, brown and fair I have frolick'd, 'tis true, But I never lov'd any, dear Mary, but you.
Tho' Phrllis and Nancy are narn'd in my fong,
My mind will ftill wander to you ; Not to Phillis or Nancy my raptures belong,
To you and you only they're due : With rry hey derry down, and my ho down derry, A mong the green meadows fo blithe and fo merry ; My fongs are of pleaiure and beauty, 'tis true, But I never lov'd any, dear Mary, but you.
Jn my eyes you may read a fond heart all your own,
But, alav ! tis the language of love ; My feelings you'd pity, that language once known,
Then learn it, all doubt to remove : With my hey derry down, and my ho down derry, Among the green meadows fo blithe and fo merr) ; You'll ne'er find a heart more fond or more true, For I i^fever lov'd any, dear Mary, but you.
��THE
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