Part 1 — THE LOVE-SICK BOY
Reading edition
When first my old, old love I knew, My bosom welled with joy; My riches at her feet I threw; I was a love-sick boy! No terms seemed too extravagant Upon her to employ— I used to mope, and sigh, and pant, Just like a love-sick boy! But joy incessant palls the sense; And love unchanged will cloy, And she became a bore intense Unto her love-sick boy? With fitful glimmer burnt my flame. And I grew cold and coy, At last, one morning, I became Another's love-sick boy!
