You ask me, dear Nancy, what makes me presume <br />That you cherish a secret affection for me? <br />When we see the Flow'rs bud, don't we look for the Bloom? <br />Then, sweetest, attend, while I answer to thee. <br /> <br />When we Young Men with pastimes the Twilight beguile, <br />I watch your plump cheek till it dimples with joy: <br />And observe, that whatever occasions the smile, <br />You give me a glance; but provokingly coy. <br /> <br />Last Month, when wild Strawberries pluckt in the Grove, <br />Like beads on the tall seeded grass you had strung; <br />You gave me the choicest; I hop'd 'twas for Love; <br />And I told you my hopes while the Nightingale sung. <br /> <br />Remember the Viper:--'twas close at your feet; <br />How you started, and threw yourself into my arms; <br />Not a Strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet <br />As the lips which I kiss'd to subdue your alarms. <br /> <br />As I pull'd down the clusters of Nuts for my Fair, <br />What a blow I receiv'd from a strong bending bough; <br />Though Lucy and other gay lasses were there, <br />Not one of them show'd such compassion as you. <br /> <br />And was it compassion?--by Heaven 'twas more! <br />A telltale betrays you;--that blush on your cheek. <br />Then come, dearest Maid, all your trifling give o'er, <br />And whisper what Candour will teach you to speak. <br /> <br />Can you stain my fair Honour with one broken vow? <br />Can you say that I've ever occasion'd a pain? <br />On Truth's honest base let your tenderness grow: <br />I swear to be faithful, again and again.<br /><br />Robert Bloomfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nancy-6/
