Why do I love my sweetheart? Well
I really never tried to tell.
I love her mayhap for her smile,
So innocent and free from guile.
Perhaps I love her for her mien,
So calmly cheerful and serene;
Or it may be her silken hair,
First caught and tangled Cupid there.
And since I came to analyse;
Her chiefest beauty is her eyes.
Her mouth, too, that is Cupid's bow--
Perhaps that's why I love her so.
And now I think of it, her voice
First made my rusty heart rejoice
And then her hand--'tis my belief
It quite outvies the lily leaf.
Perhaps I love her for her ways
That blend in with the sunny days.
Tush--to be brief and plain with you,
I love her just because I do.
Yesterdays. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1916.
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