A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover
Ancient Person, for whom I
All the flatt'ring Youth defy;
Long be it e're thou grow old,
Aching, shaking, crazy, cold.
But still continue as thou art,
Ancient Person of my Heart.
On thy wither'd lips and dry,
Which like barren furrows lie,
Brooding kisses I will pour,
Shall thy youthful heart restore.
(Such kind showers in autumn fall,
And a second spring recall);
Nor from thee will ever part,
Ancient Person of my Heart.
All the flatt'ring Youth defy;
Long be it e're thou grow old,
Aching, shaking, crazy, cold.
But still continue as thou art,
Ancient Person of my Heart.
On thy wither'd lips and dry,
Which like barren furrows lie,
Brooding kisses I will pour,
Shall thy youthful heart restore.
(Such kind showers in autumn fall,
And a second spring recall);
Nor from thee will ever part,
Ancient Person of my Heart.
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