43
THE SMILE.
Oh say, sweet smile, deceiving syren, say,
Why dost thou thus beguile my trembling heart?
Why with my feelings so unkindly play—
Why seek to charm me with thy magic art?
Why dost thou thus beguile my trembling heart?
Why with my feelings so unkindly play—
Why seek to charm me with thy magic art?
To make me feel more keenly, dost thou try
To make me pine in anguish and despair?
O play no more around false Mary's eye,
Thou'lt make me fancy she again is fair.
To make me pine in anguish and despair?
O play no more around false Mary's eye,
Thou'lt make me fancy she again is fair.
