She seems to me the fairest and the most
Refined: a pure gold girl without alloys.
And thus from stage to stage I watch the maid
As she develops like the budding rose,
And then, Ah me! I'm jealously afraid
That she admires me less than other beaux.
And then, anon, I see her on the knee
Of Willie Jones: I think she shouldn't oughter!
But then my Courtship Days come back to me—
Just like her Ma! She is my only Daughter!