So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love,
And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution
Told his read more

So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her Love,
And thus the Soldier arm'd with Resolution
Told his soft Tale, and was a thriving Wooer.

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

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

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say read more

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say of her they mean
No more than on the thing they lean.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.

And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.

And whispering, "I will ne'er consent," consented.

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With read more

He that will win his dame must do
As love does when he draws his bow;
With one hand thrust the lady from,
And with the other pull her home.

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.

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
read more

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.

Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?

Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?