Читать книгу The Lazy Minstrel - Ashby-Sterry Joseph - Страница 16

MISS DIMPLECHEEK,

Your winsome face,

Your figure full of girlish grace,

Is quite unique!

Your pretty, poutful, childlike charm,

All criticism must disarm,

Miss Dimplecheek!

Miss Dimplecheek,

Ah! well-a-day,

I watch your pretty roses play

At hide and seek!

While York to Lancaster gives place,

And sweeter grows your pretty face —

Miss Dimplecheek!

Miss Dimplecheek,

I wonder if

You ever revel in a tiff,

Or pout in pique

Or droop those pretty eyelids down,

Or shake your shoulders, stamp, or frown,

Miss Dimplecheek?

Miss Dimplecheek,

I gaze, and then —

The most cantankerous of men

Grows mild and meek.

Your faults? Perchance you may have some —

But to your faults I'm blind and dumb —

Miss Dimplecheek.

Miss Dimplecheek,

If I but knew

Who was the proud papa of you

I'd quickly speak:

And get an introduction, so

Eventually I might know

Miss Dimplecheek.

Miss Dimplecheek,

I leave you here,

For I am off to Windermere,

To stay a week:

I p'r'aps may ne'er see you again —

But – there's the bell, and here's my train —

Miss Dimplecheek!