WON'T YOU.
[_]
(Air composed by Mr. Ditchfield.)
I
Do you remember when you heard
My lips breathe love's first faltering word;
You do, Sweet—don't you?
When having wander'd all the day,
Link'd arm in arm, I dared to say,
“You'll love me—won't you?”
II
And when you blush'd, and could not speak,
I fondly kiss'd your glowing cheek;
Did that affront you?
Oh, surely not: your eye exprest
No wrath—but said, perhaps in jest,
“You'll love me—won't you?”
III
I'm sure my eyes replied, “I will;”
And you believe that promise still;
You do, Sweet—don't you?
Yes, yes! when age has made our eyes
Unfit for questions, or replies,
You'll love me—won't you?
