IN a mansion grand, just over the way Lives bonny, beautiful Dell; You may have heard of this lady gay, For she is a famous belle. I live in a low cot opposite— You never have heard of me; For when the lady moon shines bright, Who would a pale star see? But ah, well! ah, well! I am happier far than Dell, As strange as that may be. Dell has robes of the richest kind— Pinks and purples and blues; And she worries her maid and frets her mind To know which one to choose. Which shall it be now, silk or lace? In which will I be most fair? She stands by the mirror with anxious face, And her maid looks on in despair. Ah, well ! ah, well ! I am not worried, you see, like Dell, For I have but one to wear. Dell has lovers of every grade, Of every age and style; Suitors flutter about the maid, And bask in her word and smile. She keeps them all, with a coquette's art, As suits her mood or mirth, And vainly wonders if in @3one@1 heart Of all true love has birth. Ah, well ! ah, well ! I never question myself like Dell, For I @3know@1 a true heart's worth. Pleasure to Dell seems stale and old, Often she sits and sighs; Life to me is a tale untold, Each day is a glad surprise. Dell will marry, of course, some day, After her belleship is run; She will cavil the matter in worldly way And wed Dame Fortune's son But, ah, well ! sweet to tell, I shall not dally and choose like Dell, For I love and am loved by—@3one.@1 |