I C Th A S F（1 / 1）

1792

i do nfess thou art sae fair

alteration of an old poe

i do nfess thou art sae fair,

i was been o&039;er the gs ve,

had i na found the slightest prayer

that lips uld speak thy heart uld uve

i do nfess thee sweet, but fd

thou art thriftless o&039; thy sweets,

thy favours are the silly d

that kisses ilka thg it ets

see yonder rosebud, rich dew,

aang its native briers sae y;

how sune it tes its scent and hue,

when pu&039;d and worn a on toy

sic fate ere ng shall thee betide,

tho&039; thou ay gaily bloo awhile;

and sune thou shalt be thrown aside,

like ony on weed and vile