Handle With Care
The tangible always is frangible.
(Proven long since, I take it).
By chance or by art you've taken hold of my heart—
But please, Little Girl, don't break it!
The One and The Only
Hundreds of maids in this world have been born
With many a charm that allures, dear;
Hundreds are radiant, fair as the morn—
But never were eyes just like yours dear.
Hundreds boast beauty of form and of face,
Which always devotion assures, dear;
Hundreds personification of grace,
But none has a smile just like yours, dear.
