SHE is so pretty, the girl I love, Her eyes are tender and deep and blue As the summer night in the skies above, As violets seen through a mist of dew. How can I hope, then, her heart to gain? She is so pretty, and I am so plain! She is so pretty, so fair to see! Scarcely she's counted her nineteenth spring, Fresh, and blooming, and young,—ah me! Why do I thus her praises sing? Surely from me 'tis a senseless strain, She is so pretty, and I am so plain! She is so pretty, so sweet and dear, There's many a lover who loves her well; I may not hope, I can only fear, Yet shall I venture my love to tell? ... Ah! I have pleaded, and not in vain— Though she's so pretty, and I am so plain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TUNICA PALLIO PROPRIOR by MARIANNE MOORE PROLOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR. GARRICK AT ... THEATRE ROYALE, 1747 by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) TWO AT A FIRESIDE by EDWIN MARKHAM THE BELLE OF THE BALL by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE WANDERING JEW by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON HERTHA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE ARAB TO THE PALM by BAYARD TAYLOR THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONG OF THE WRENS: MARRIAGE MORNING by ALFRED TENNYSON |