Maidens, gather not the yew,
Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping;
Any lad was born untrue,
Never a one is fit your weeping.
Pretty dears, your tumult cease;
Love's a fardel, burthening double.
Clear your hearts, and have you peace--
Gangway, girls: I'll show you trouble.
1.4k
Maidens, gather not the yew,
Leave the glossy myrtle sleeping;
Any lad was born untrue,
Never a one is fit your weeping.
Pretty dears, your tumult cease;
Love's a fardel, burthening double.
Clear your hearts, and have you peace--
Gangway, girls: I'll show you trouble.
1893 - 1967/Female/American