What's the color of her eyes, when they ope or close?
Just the color they should be, as everybody knows.
Is she lovelier dancing, or resting in repose?
Both are radiant pictures, as everybody knows.
Do her ships go sailing on every wind that blows?
She is richer far than that, as everybody knows.
Has she scores of lovers, heaps of bleeding beaux?
That question's quite superfluous, as everybody knows.
I could tell you something, if I only chose!—
But what's the use of telling what everybody knows?
James Thomas Fields [1816-1881]
TOUJOURS AMOUR
Prithee tell me, Dimple-Chin,
At what age does Love begin?
Your blue eyes have scarcely seen
Summers three, my fairy queen,
But a miracle of sweets,
Soft approaches, sly retreats,
Show the little archer there,
Hidden in your pretty hair;
When didst learn a heart to win?
Prithee tell me, Dimple-Chin!
"Oh!" the rosy lips reply,
"I can't tell you if I try.
'Tis so long I can't remember:
Ask some younger lass than I!"