May I take your hand in mine,

Little Miss?

For this fairy-like retreat

In the country fresh and sweet,

Is what I’ve longed to meet,

Little Miss.

Yes, I came here from the town,

Little Miss;

Without an aim in view,

I have roved the country through,

And by chance I’ve met with you,

Little Miss.

You were born upon the farm,

Little Miss?

Why, how happy you must be

In the country pure and free!

I am filled with ecstasy,

Little Miss.

Do I like the city belles,

Little Miss?

Well! some I do, and yet,

Why you needn’t pout and fret,

For I am still to let,

I am longing for a kiss,

Little Miss.

Yes, I’m asking with my eyes

In a tongue that never lies,

And in words I can’t disguise,

Little Miss.

Oh! is what I say quite true,

Little Miss?

Ah! Why should Phyllis doubt

With that pretty little pout?

I know what I’m about,

Little Miss.

Now what age am I, you ask,

Little Miss?

Well, I’ve just turned twenty-two,

And I’d like to marry you.

Now, I’m married. Ah! Who to?

That little Miss.