Light as the waves foaming white on the bar,

We dance to the mandolin, harp, and guitar;

One, two, three, waltzing we glide round the room,—

Would you were bride, and ah, would I were groom!

On all the seashore none fairer than you;

What but adore you could any one do?

Cheeks like the pink of an evening sky,

Eyes that might bid a man laughingly die.

Ears like the shells from the Indian sea,

Teeth like white buds on a young apple-tree,

Throat like a lily bent heavy with dew,

Arms just as white and as lily-like too.

Lips that would tempt—ah! you'll pardon me now,

Being so near them suggests, you'll allow,

That the happiest thing e'er a mortal could do,

Would be to be ever thus waltzing with you.