The Country Inn Act 1

"'Twas not that orient blush, that arm of snow,"That eye's celestial blue, which caus'd my woe,"'Twas thy exalted mind, my peace which stole,"And all thy moving sympathy of soul."

"Give me the maid, whose bosom high"Doth often heave the tender sigh;"Whose eye, suffus'd with tender care,"Doth often shed the soft luxurious tear."

"All ye gentle christians who pass by,"Upon this dumb stone cast a pitying eye;"I pray you for yourselves, not me, bewail,"I on life's follies now have turned tail."

"I pray ye for yourselves bewail,"For I on life have turned tail."