And red of sunset skies unrolled!
Her scarlet lips of such allure!
(The torment I each day endure!)
Like plums all downy to the touch,
Ah, ’tis her lips I love so much!
And yet—her cheeks have havoc wrought—
Has she a witch’s philtre sought?
Don’t fool me, little sweetheart, pray.
As minnows in the water play
So would you slip and slide and turn