WitH THE STORY TELLERS

With your bewitching eyes and your proud curving

nose,
Faith a beauty you are from your head to your toes.

III.

Sure your neck is so fair, and so slender your waist,

If I didn’t embrace you, I’d be a “rale baste.”

But then you’d cry out: “Don’t you dare, Phil
Dwyer!

And your face gets so red that ’twould set things ou
fire;

Still you look so attractive, and charming, and gay,

That I think you an angel that just chanced this way.

iV.

Compared to your voice, sure the nightingales
scream;

While your smile brings more cheer, than the sun’s
brightest beam,

And when you are dancing they all stop and stare;

Though your toes touch the floor, you’re nine-tenths
in the air:

But the squeeze of your hand—true as heaven above,

I’m no longer myself, I’m just one lump of love.

V

Faith our hearts they are both in a terrible stew,

If you love me as much as I think I love you;

Sure nothing but smiles on you ever will beam,
And the rest of our lives will be one happy dream;
For ’twould grieve earth and heaven the knot to undo,
Of that marriage bond, that made one of us two.

 

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