My bodice like snow;
The clover to sickle

With others I go.

Something pretty, e'er long

Midst the troop he explores;
The eager boy signs me

To go within doors.

I bashfully go,--

Who I am, he can't trace;
He pinches my cheeks,

And he looks in my face.

The town girl now threatens

You maidens with war;
Her twofold charms pledges .

Of victory are.

1803.
-----
LOVER IN ALL SHAPES.