While many a fond and blooming maid

LE many a fond and blooming maid    Attempts thy heart to gain;

And, by thy fatal smile betrayed,    Thinks not she strives in vain:

While in those eyes of tender blue    They answering passion see,

And in thy sweet expression view    The charm that conquered me:....

I still should scorn their winning art,    And be, my Henry, blest,

If thou wouldst give that precious heart    To her who loves thee best.