The
LASS
with
the
golden
Locks
.
BALLAD
II
.
I.
NO
more
of
my
Harriot
,
of
Polly
no
more
,
Nor
all
the
bright
beauties
that
charm'd
me
before
;
My
heart
for
a
slave
to
gay
Venus
I've
sold
,
And
barter'd
my
freedom
for
ringlets
of
gold
:
I'll
throw
down
my
pipe
,
and
neglect
all
my
flocks
,
And
will
sing
to
my
lass
with
the
golden
locks
.
II
.
Tho'
o'er
her
white
forehead
the
gilt
tresses
flow
,
Like
the
rays
of
the
sun
on
a
hillock
of
snow
;
Such
painters
of
old
drew
the
Queen
of
the
Fair
,
'Tis
the
taste
of
the
antients
,
'tis
classical
hair
:
And
tho'
witlings
may
scoff
,
and
tho'
raillery
mocks
,
Yet
I'll
sing
to
my
lass
with
the
golden
locks
.
III
.
To
live
and
to
love
,
to
converse
and
be
free
,
Is
loving
,
my
charmer
,
and
living
with
thee
:
Away
go
the
hours
in
kisses
and
rhime
,
Spite
of
all
the
grave
lectures
of
old
father
Time
;
A
fig
for
his
dials
,
his
watches
and
clocks
,
He's
best
spent
with
the
lass
of
the
golden
locks
.
IV
.
Than
the
swan
in
the
brook
she's
more
dear
to
my
sight
,
Her
mien
is
more
stately
,
her
breast
is
more
white
,
Her
sweet
lips
are
rubies
,
all
rubies
above
,
Which
are
fit
for
the
language
or
labour
of
love
;
At
the
park
in
the
mall
,
at
the
play
in
the
box
,
My
lass
bears
the
bell
with
her
golden
locks
.
V.
Her
beautiful
eyes
,
as
they
roll
or
they
flow
,
Shall
be
glad
for
my
joy
,
or
shall
weep
for
my
woe
;
She
shall
ease
my
fond
heart
,
and
shall
sooth
my
soft
pain
,
While
thousands
of
rivals
are
sighing
in
vain
;
Let
them
rail
at
the
fruit
they
can't
reach
,
like
the
fox
,
While
I
have
the
lass
with
the
golden
locks
.