My little pretty one!
My softly winning one!
Oh! thou'rt a merry one!
And playful as can be.
With a beck thou com'st anon;
In a trice, too, thou are gone,
And I must sigh alone,
But sighs are lost upon thee.
Art thou my smiling one,
Art thou my pouting one,
Art thou my teasing one,
A goddess, elf, or grace?
With a frown thou wound'st my heart,
With a smile thou heal'st the smart;
Why play the tyrant's part
With such an innocent face?
--_Old Song_