Oh, have you seen sweet Harry Lee,
Who calls me “Little Fairy?”
In camp and field, he says, ’tis me
He’s coming home to marry.
Then the waltz! Ah the waltz! What ravishing pleasure
They felt in the waltz as they reveled its measure,
And how their blood surged with ecstatic sensation
As their dancing feet caught its enchanting creation
Till it bore them, as if, on a smooth gliding stream,