She seem’d so gentle, she seem’d so good, An angel I thought my lover; She wrote the dearest letters to me, With kindness teeming all over. The wedding was very soon to take place, Her relations heard this by dozens; My Bertha was a silly thing, For she listen’d to aunts and cousins. She kept not her word, she broke her oath, And yet I have been forgiving; Had I married her first, I ne’er should have known Either pleasure or love while living. When I of a faithless woman think, I think of Bertha the faithless; The only wish I have left, is that she May pass through her confinement scatheless. |