Long young Jockey toy'd and sported,
Long he tried each winning art,
Long with silent glances courted
Ere he won my witless heart:

Oft he press'd my hand too yielding!
Oft he kiss'd and oft he smil'd:
No reserve my bosom shielding
Chloe's heart he soon beguil'd.

But when he my inclination had subdu'd
The faithless swain!
Can you hear it, maids with patience!
Soon, too soon, forsakes the plain!

Leaving the maid a prey to young Cupid,
Whose only fault was her seeming too kind;
Surely the youth was grown very stupid
To think that the sting would remain long behind.

Tell me, ye swains,
Tell me, ye swains,
Could you do so?
Would you do so?
Cou'd you,
W'd you,
W'd you, c'd you,
C'd you have serv'd a maiden so?