The New Hampshire Gazette And General Advertiser

’Tis a pity indeed to be sure.

A FAVORITE SONG.

I told a sweet damsel a tender soft tale,
Each eve as we sat in the shade,
In hopes that in time my fond suit might prevail,
For she was a delicate maid.
I said that my love was so ardent and true,
That nothing my passion cou’d cure,
But she only answered, ah! what will you do?
’Tis a pity indeed to be sure.
I play’d on my pipe, and sung a soft song,
The sentiments warm from my heart;
She listen’d attentive, but then ere ’twas long,
Declar’d it was time to depart.
I press’d her white hand with a languishing smile,
And said, pity the pangs I endure,
But no other answer cou’d gain all the while.
Than, ’tis pity indeed to be sure.
At length little Cupid assisted my plan,
To soften the nymph to my mind,
My wishes to crown, and my heart more trepan,
She soon became tender and kind;
To church the next day she consented to go,
Suspense I no longer endure,
For wedlock’s the greatest delight we can know,
’Tis charming indeed to be sure.