They say I am no faithful swain,
Because I do not fold my arms,
And gaze and sigh, and gaze again,
And curse my fair one's fatal charms.
I cannot weep, I cannot sigh,
My fair one's heart laughs in her eye.
I cannot creep like weary wight,
My fair one's step is free and light.

When fix'd in memory's mirror dwells
Some dear-lov'd form to fleet no more,
Transform'd as by Arabian spells,
We catch the likeness we adore.
Then ah! who would not love most true?
Who would not be in love with you?
So might he learn the bliss of heart
Which waits on those who bliss impart,
Might learn through smiles and tears to shine
Like Angels, and like Caroline.
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