English poem
Song VIII. the Sweet Little Girl That I Love
by Anonymous
My friends all declare that my time is mispent, While in rural retirement I rove; I ask no more wealth than dame fortune hath sent, But the sweet little girl that I love. The rose on her cheek's my delight, She's soft as the down on the dove, No lilly was ever so white, As the sweet little girl that I love.
Tho' humble my cot, calm content gilds the scene, For my fair one delights in my grove; And a palace I'd quit for a dance on the green, With my sweet little girl that I love. The sweet little girl, &c.
No ambition I know, but to call her my own, No same but her praise wish to prove; My happiness centers in Fanny alone, She's the sweet little girl that I love. The sweet little girl, &c.