She fills the chappy mob with glee
(The jays but come to drink and stare).
A rose is nestled in her hair,
Like Cupid lurking in his lair—
Few of the jays remain heart free
From four to six.
Oh let them come—I would not care
If all the men on earth were there;
For when they go she smiles on me,
And, just because she loves me, she