  “OH, ’tis time I should talk to your mother, Sweet Mary,” says I; “Oh, don’t talk to my mother,” says Mary, Beginning to cry: “For my mother says men are deceivers, And never, I know, will consent; She says girls in a hurry who marry, At leisure repent.” “Then, suppose I would talk to your father, Sweet Mary,” says I; “Oh, don’t talk to my father,” says Mary, Beginning to cry: “For my father he loves me so dearly, He’ll never consent I should go— If you talk to my father,” says Mary, “He’ll surely say, ‘No.’” “Then how shall I get you, my jewel? Sweet Mary,” says I; “If your father and mother’s so cruel, Most surely I’ll die!” “Oh, never say die, dear,” says Mary; “A way now to save you I see; Since my parents are both so contrary— You’d better ask me!” Samuel Lover. |
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