There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.

'Twas he that ranged the words at random flung,
Pierced the fair pearls and them together strung.

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
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Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.
If man come not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage,
They cannot seek his hand.

There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four
which I know not:
The way read more

There be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four
which I know not:
The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock;
the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man
with a maid.

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and read more

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:
Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were read more

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
Ha, ha! the wooing o't!

Blessed is the wooing
That is not long a-doing.

Blessed is the wooing
That is not long a-doing.

'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
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'Tis an old lesson; time approves it true,
And those who know it best, deplore it most;
When all is won that all desire to woo,
The paltry prize is hardly worth the cost.

Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a lovelorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
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Never wedding, ever wooing,
Still a lovelorn heart pursuing,
Read you not the wrong you're doing
In my cheek's pale hue?
All my life with sorrow strewing;
Wed or cease to woo.