(But for your protests, they'd be overworked!)
I've seen your eyes with mischief filled and tears;
(But I could never pity you, My Dears!)
I've seen your breasts with agitation heave;
(Your hearts must be affected, I believe!)
I've seen your shapely forms pass in review
Before my lonely couch, in dreams of you,—
And what I haven't seen, some little bird
Has told me all about. Upon my word,
If what he says be true, what I have heard