Our cheeks and eyes the likeness show;
In broidering we spend the day,
Or teach each other how to sew.
The youngest, in her youth elate,
The fancy took, one summer night,
To pass the orange garden gate,
With two flambeaux to give her light.
She wore a pretty page's suit,
That showed her shape so trim and neat;
In light, fair hands she held a lute,