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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