on a picture.
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He will not forget his own Ellen at home,
For Mabel or any one,—when will he come?
For Mabel or any one,—when will he come?
I'm weary of waiting—how strangely unkind
To linger so from me,—I've made up my mind
I won't kiss him now, when he does—ah! behold!
Who hastes o'er the common with bearing so bold?
He waves his plumed cap! it is he! it is he!
Bless his heart—how he flies no' he's caught sight of me!
Ah! Mabel may listen the bugle and drum,
And bewitch the whole regiment—Willie has come!
To linger so from me,—I've made up my mind
I won't kiss him now, when he does—ah! behold!
Who hastes o'er the common with bearing so bold?
He waves his plumed cap! it is he! it is he!
Bless his heart—how he flies no' he's caught sight of me!
Ah! Mabel may listen the bugle and drum,
And bewitch the whole regiment—Willie has come!
ON A PICTURE,
Representing a maiden with a pair of scales, and Love with a butterfly; the winged boy rises, as he should, and the motto beneath is—"Love is the lightest!"
Silly maiden, weigh them not!
Butterflies are earthly things;
Thou forget'st their lowly lot,
Gazing on their glittering wings.
Butterflies are earthly things;
Thou forget'st their lowly lot,
Gazing on their glittering wings.
