Ballad : "Young Chloe..."

Young Chloe looks sweet as the rose
And her love might be reckoned no less
But her bosom so freely bestows
That all may a portion possess.
Her smiles would be cheering to see
But so freely they’re lavished abroad
That each silly swain well as me
Can boast of the smiles she bestowed.

Her smiles and her kisses so free
Blesses all like the rain from the sky
As the blossoms love is to the bee
Each swain is as welcome as I.
And tho’ I my folly can see
Yet still must I love and adore
Tho’ I know the love whispered to me
Is a lie told to many before.

’Tis sad that a bosom so fair
And red lips so seemingly sweet
Should study false ways to ensnare
And breath in their kisses deceit.
But beauty’s no guide to the best
The rose that out blushes the morn
While it tempts the glad eye to its breast
Will pierce the fond hand with a thorn.

Yet still must I love silly swain
And put up with all her deceit
And try to be jealous in vain
For I cannot help thinking her sweet,
When I see other swains in her bower.
I sigh and excuse what I see
And say to myself ‘is the flower
Any worse when its kissed by the bee’?

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