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c.1800. "A Welsh sonnet: the poetry from Jones's Relicks of the Welsh Bards".
Lyrics: Anon
Turn, lovely Gwen, be good and kind,
And listen to thy lover's pray'r;
Full well I know there's none so blind
But must adore my charming fair.
Despise me not for being poor,
I am not very rich, 'tis true,
But if thou can'st my lot endure,
I shall be rich enough in you.
Thy colour, shape, thine eye, thine hand,
Thy nimble step and witching smile,
Sweet voice, soft speech, my life command,
And nearly did my life beguile.
If doubtful of my truth you stand,
Place on my breast your lovely hand;
Yet gently touch, nor aid the smart,
That heaves my fond, expiring heart.
Turn, lovely Gwen, be good and kind,
And listen to thy lover's pray'r;
Full well I know there's none so blind
But must adore my charming fair.
Despise me not for being poor,
I am not very rich, 'tis true,
But if thou can'st my lot endure,
I shall be rich enough in you.
Thy colour, shape, thine eye, thine hand,
Thy nimble step and witching smile,
Sweet voice, soft speech, my life command,
And nearly did my life beguile.
If doubtful of my truth you stand,
Place on my breast your lovely hand;
Yet gently touch, nor aid the smart,
That heaves my fond, expiring heart.