I WILL NOT MARRY THEE

Such is, dear girl, my tenderness,
    Naught can its equal be!
If thou a dowry didst possess
The charms to rival of thy face,
    I will not marry thee.

Thou wert my bliss, my star, my all!
    So kind and fair to see;
And me thy consort to instal,
At once for witness Heaven I call,
    I will not marry thee.

Thou dost adore me? yes, and I,
    Thy love so raptures me,
If thou wouldst not so anxious try
To know my pay, and what I buy,
    I will not marry thee.

If thou wert not so always coy,
    Ne’er listening to my plea,
But when I, fool! my cash employ
To bring thee sweets, or some fine toy,
    I will not marry thee.

If thou must not instructions wait,
    As may mamma agree,
To write or speak to me, or state
When thou wilt meet me at the gate,
    I will not marry thee.

If ’twere not when to dine, the most
    Thy meagre soup bouillie
Thou givest, as many airs thou show’st,
As Roderic at the hanging-post,
    I will not marry thee.

If for my punishment instead
    Of ease and quiet, we
Might not three hungry brothers dread,
And mother too, to keep when wed,
    I will not marry thee.

If ’twere not when these plagues combine
    With thy tears flowing free,
The virtues of a heavenly sign
I see must solace me, not thine,
    I will not marry thee.

Go, get another in thy chain,
    And Heaven for you decree
A thousand joys, for me ’tis vain;
I know thee cheat, and tell thee plain,
    I will not marry thee.