It is a punishment to love
IT is a punishment to love,
And not to love a punishment doth prove;
But of all pains there's no such pain
As 'tis to love, and not be loved again.
Till sixteen, parents we obey;
After sixteen, men steal our hearts away:
How wretched are we women grown,
Whose wills, whose minds, whose hearts are ne'er our own?
And not to love a punishment doth prove;
But of all pains there's no such pain
As 'tis to love, and not be loved again.
Till sixteen, parents we obey;
After sixteen, men steal our hearts away:
How wretched are we women grown,
Whose wills, whose minds, whose hearts are ne'er our own?
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