Damaetas is a boy as rue As ever broke maid's solitude. He watcht the little Ida going Where the wood-raspberries were growing, And, under a pretence of fear Lest they might scratch her arms, drew near, And, plucking up a stiff grey bent, The fruit (scarce touching it,) he sent Into both hands: the form they took Of a boat's keel upon a brook; So not a raspberry fell down To splash her foot or stain her gown. When it was over, for his pains She let his lips do off the stains That were upon two fingers; he At first kist two, and then kist three, And, to be certain every stain Had vanisht, kist them o'er again. At last the boy, quite shameless, said 'See! I have taken out the red! Now where there's redder richer fruit Pray, my sweet Ida, let me do't.' 'Audacious creature!' she cried out, 'What in the world are you about?' He had not taken off the red All over; on both cheeks 'twas spred; And the two lips that should be white With fear, if not with fear, with spite At such ill usage, never show'd More comely, or more deeply glow'd. Damaetas fancied he could move The girl to listen to his love: Not he indeed. Damaetas: For pity's sake! Ida: Go; never more come nigh this brake. Damaetas: Must I, why must I, press in vain? Ida: Because I hate you. Damaetas: Think again, Think better of it, cruel maid! Ida: Well then . . because I am afraid. Damaetas: Look round us: nobody is near. Ida: All the more reason for my fear. Damaetas: Hatred is overcome by you, And Fear can be no match for two.