I love
To
Look
At
Him,
His
Figure
Trim,
His
Stride
Long.
His
Voice
A
Song,
He
Seems
To
Shine,
But
He
Is
Not
Mine.
He
Is
Quite
Tall,
His
Clothes
Put
Me
In
Thrall,
His
Eyes
Are
True
Blue,
His
Hair
Is
Fair.
In
The
Night
I call,
But
My
Voice
Is
Too
Small.
Only
For
Him
I pine,
Even
Though
He
Is
Not
Mine.
Were
He
In
My
Reach,
I would
Eat
Him
Like
A
Ripe
Peach,
Drink
Him
Like
Wine
In
A
Crystal
Glass,
Swallow
Him
Like
Star
Shine.
Alas,
He
Is
Not
Mine.