Who'll Buy My Love-Knots? (Portuguese Air.)

A poem by Thomas Moore

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
These 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 some trembled.

"Here are knots," said Hymen, taking
Some loose flowers, "of Love's own making;
"Here are gold 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'd buy such love-knots?
"Who'd buy such 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!"

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