Читать книгу The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 279, October 20, 1827 - Various - Страница 7

My peace is fled—I cannot rest,—

    The tale I tell most true is;

My heart's been stolen from my breast,

    By lovely Nancy Lewis.

Fair is the blossom of the thorn,

    And bright the morning dew is;

But sweeter than the dewy morn

    The smiles of Nancy Lewis.

The eye that's sparkling black I love,

    Ay, more than that which blue is;

And thine are like two stars above,

    And sloe black—Nancy Lewis.

Alas! alas! their power I feel;

    My bosom pierced right through is:

In pity, then, my bosom heal,

    My charming Nancy Lewis.

Oh! bless me with thy heaven of charms,

    And take a heart that true is,

While circling life my bosom warms

    In thine dear Nancy Lewis.