SAM. LOVER.
* * This song has been set to music * by Mr. Lover, and is published.
"Who are you?—Who are you? Little boy that's running after Ev'ry one up and down, Mingling sighing with your laughter?"
"I am Cupid, lady belle, I am Cupid, and no other."
"Little boy, then pr'ythee tell How is Venus? How's your mother? Little boy, little boy, I desire you tell me true: Cupid, oh! you're alter'd so, No wonder I cry Who are you?"
II. "Who are you?—Who are you? Little boy, where is your bow? You had a bow, my little boy."
"So had you, ma'am, long ago."
"Little boy, where is your torch?" "Madam, I have given it up:
Torches are no use at all; Hearts will never now flare up."
"Naughty boy, naughty boy, Such words as these I never knew: Cupid, oh! you're alter'd so, No wonder I say "Who are you?"
WHO ARE YOU?
"There are very impudent people in London," Said young Ben. "As I passed down Arlington-street a fellow stared at me and shouted 'Who are you?' Five minutes after, another passing me cried 'Flare up!' but a civil gentleman close to his heels kindly asked 'How is your mother?' Vivian Grey.
"Il y a certaines façons de parler dans toutes les langues de l'Europe, que l'on retrouve partout dans la bouche du vulgaire. A cette classe apparsions "Qui es tu?" "Comment va ta mere?" En Italie comme en France on n'entend que ça."—L'Abbé Bossu sur les idiotismes du langage.