Time was I thought that precious name

Less meet for Court than Alley;

But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,

No clarion note, like Sally!

There seems at first, within the word,

Some cause to smile, or rally;

But once by her sweet glance preferr’d,

Ev’n Heaven itself loves Sally!

The world moves round when move her Eyes,

Grace o’er each step doth dally,

The breath is lost in glad surprize;

There is no belle, like Sally!

Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,

Time stops, his Glass to rally;

I hardly know what I’m about—

When lost in thought on Sally!

Sometimes she’s small, sometimes she’s tall,

I can’t tell how, vocally;

For there’s a spirit over all,

That beams abroad from Sally!

A spirit bright, a beam of light,

Ah! fear not that I rally—

No man can Evil think in sight

Of this pure-hearted Sally!

And yet Time was, I thought the name

For Court less fit, than Alley;

While now, no herald sound hath Fame,

No clarion note, but Sally!