Were my enchanted magic from a boy
The pouting lip the colour of the hair
Left me in raptures next of kin to care
I loved & wooed them in the field like gems
The azure bluebells in their sapphire stems
Among green bushes low their mute bells hung
These seemed loves modest maidens dew bestrung
With blebs o' mornings glittering pearls
I loved them in the valleys where I sung