Three excellent new songs (1)/Sure a lass in her bloom

Sure a Lass, in her bloom.

SURE, a lass, in her bloom,
At the age of nineteen,
Was ne’er so distress’d
As of late I have been;
I know not, I vow,
Any harm I have done,
That my mother oft tells me,
She’d have me a nun.
Don’t you think it a pity
A girl such as I,
Should be sentenced fast
To pray and to cry;
With ways so devout
I’m not like to be won;
My heart it loves frolics
Too well for a nun
Not to love! nor be lov’d!
Oh! I never can bear;
Nor yield to be sent,
I cannot tell where:
To live, or to die
In this cafe, is all one,
Nay, I’d rather be dead.
Than be reckon’d a nun.
Perhaps ’tis to tease me,
She threatens me so,
I’m sure, were she me,
She’d stoutly say no.
But if she’s in earnest,
I from her will run,
And I - married in spight,
That I mayn't a nun.

FINIS