MY DAUGHTER FAN.
I
My daughter Fan, oh, look at her face,
You'll own she's quite uncommon;
A girl in years, but in beauty and grace,
My daughter Fan's a woman.
And well indeed may her mother be proud
When she makes such a great sensation,
'Tis nature all—she was never allow'd
To be bother'd with education.
II
My daughter Fan has never been shown
Her steps by a dancing master,
But she skips about in a way of her own,
And nobody gallops faster.
She never was taught to sing a bit!
And that's what makes me prouder;
For when she sings, you'll all admit
That nobody can sing louder.
III
My daughter Fan had her miniature done,
I look'd upon that as a duty,
Next year, no doubt, her face will be one
Of the gems of the Book of Beauty.
When Chantry sees her, I think he'll faint,
So very superb her bust is,
But, after all, neither chisel nor paint
Can do my daughter justice.
IV
The eyes of my daughter seem to me
Divine, as I've often told her,
While one looks straight, the other, you see,
Seems peeping over her shoulder!
And that, with her nose (in the turn-up style),
I give you my word and honour,
Has such a charm, that it wins a smile
From all who look upon her!
V
My daughter Fan will come out in the spring,
She begs—and I can't refuse her!
But oh dear me 'tis a terrible thing,
To think that I soon must lose her!
For when she's out she'll marry 'tis clear,
And that my bosom touches;
My daughter Fan, this time next year,
Is sure to be a duchess!
