| |
| SWEET NEA! for your lovely sake | |
| I weave these rambling numbers, | |
| Because I’ve lain an hour awake, | |
| And can’t compose my slumbers. | |
| Because your beauty’s gentle light | 5 |
| Is round my pillow beaming, | |
| And flings, I know not why, to-night, | |
| Some witchery o’er my dreaming. | |
| |
| Because we’ve pass’d some joyous days, | |
| And danced some merry dances; | 10 |
| Because we love old Beaumont’s plays, | |
| And old Froissart’s romances! | |
| Because whene’er I hear your words | |
| Some pleasant feeling lingers; | |
| Because I think your heart has cords | 15 |
| That vibrate to your fingers. | |
| |
| Because you’ve got those long, soft curls, | |
| I’ve sworn should deck my goddess; | |
| Because you’re not, like other girls, | |
| All bustle, blush, and bodice; | 20 |
| Because your eyes are deep and blue, | |
| Your fingers long and rosy; | |
| Because a little child and you | |
| Would make one’s home so cosy. | |
| |
| Because your tiny little nose | 25 |
| Turns up so pert and funny; | |
| Because I know you choose your beaux | |
| More for their mirth than money; | |
| Because I think you’d rather twirl | |
| A waltz,—with me to guide you, | 30 |
| Than talk small nonsense with an earl, | |
| And a coronet beside you. | |
| |
| Because you don’t object to walk, | |
| And are not given to fainting; | |
| Because you have not learnt to talk | 35 |
| Of flowers and Poonah-painting; | |
| Because I think you’d scarce refuse | |
| To sew one on a button; | |
| Because I know you’d sometimes choose | |
| To dine on simple mutton. | 40 |
| |
| Because I think I’m just so weak | |
| As, some of those fine morrows, | |
| To ask you if you’ll let me speak | |
| My story—and my sorrows; | |
| Because the rest’s a simple thing, | 45 |
| A matter quickly over, | |
| A church—a priest—a sigh—a ring— | |
| And a chaise and four to Dover. | |
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