He. I know a youth who loves a little maid—
(Hey, but his face is a sight for to see!)
Silent is he, for he's modest and afraid—
(Hey, but he's timid as a youth can be!)
She. I know a maid who loves a gallant youth—
(Hey, but she sickens as the days go by!)
She cannot tell him all the sad, sad truth—
(Hey, but I think that little maid will die!)
Both. Now tell me pray, and tell me true,
What in the world should the poor soul do?