Is roguish, and all that, sir;
But her little tongue
Is quite too full of chat, sir.
Since her eye can speak
Enough to tell her blisses,
If she stir her tongue.
Why—stop her mouth with kisses!
Oh! the little girls,
Wily, warm, and winning;
When the angels tempt us to it.,
Who can keep from sinning?
Nanny’s beaming eye
Looks as warm as any;
But her cheek was pale—
Well-a-day, poor Nanny!
Nanny, in the field,
She pluck’d a little posie,
And Nanny’s pallid cheek
Soon grew sleek and rosy.
Oh! the little girls, etc
Sue, the pretty nun
Prays with warm emotion;
Sweetly rolls her eye
In love or in devotion.
If her pious heart
Softens to relieve you,
She gently shares the crime,
With «Oh! may God forgive you!»
Oh! the little girls,
Wily, warm and winning
When angels tempt us to it,
Who can keep from sinning?