Song While many a fond

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.