"Hymen, late, his love-knots selling,
Called at many a maiden's dwelling;
None could doubt, who saw, or knew them,
Hymen's call was welcome to them.
'Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love knots?'
Soon as that sweet cry resounded,
How his baskets were surrounded!
Maids, who now first dreamt of trying
Those gay knots of Hymen's tying;
Dames, who long had sat to watch him
Passing by, but ne'er could catch him,
'Who'll buy my love-knots?
Who'll buy my love-knots?'
All at that sweet cry assembled;
Some laughed, some blushed, and others trembled.
{164}
'Here are knots,' said Hymen, taking
Some loose flowers of Love's own making;
'Here are good ones, you may trust 'em,'
(These, of course, found ready custom,)
'Come buy my love-knots,
Come buy my love-knots!
Some are labelled-knots to tie men,
Love, the maker--Bought of Hymen.'
Scarce their bargains were completed,
When the nymphs all cried, 'We're cheated;
'See these flowers, they're drooping sadly,
This gold-knot, too, ties but badly'--
'Who'll buy my love-knots,
Who'll buy my love-knots!'
Even this tie, with Love's name round it,
All a sham, he never bound it!
Love, who saw the whole proceeding,
Would have laughed, but for good breeding;
While old Hymen, who was used to,
Cries like that these dames gave loose to,
'Take back our love-knots,
Take back our love-knots!'
Coolly said, 'There's no returning
Wares on Hymen's hands--Good morning!'"