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’?