Song VII [My gen’rous heart disdains]
by
I.
My gen’rous heart disdains
The slave of love to be,
I scorn his servile chains,
And boast my liberty.
This whining
And pining
And wasting with care,
Are not to my taste, be she ever so fair.
II.
Shall a girl’s capricious frown
Sink my noble spirits down?
Shall a face of white and red
Make me droop my silly head?
Shall I set me down and sigh
For an eye-brow or an eye?
For a braided lock of hair,
Curse my fortune and despair?
My gen’rous heart disdains, etc.
III.
Still uncertain is to-morrow,
Not quite certain is to-day–
Shall I waste my times in sorrow?
Shall I languish life away?
All because a cruel maid,
Hath not Love with Love repaid.
My gen’rous heart disdains, etc.