The Billet-doux

The billet-doux, oh! didst thou bear To my Lorenza? lovely maid! I see how look'd the modest fair, I hear the gentle things she said. The mantling blood her cheek forsakes, But quick returns the rosy hue, With trembling haste the seal she breaks, And reads my tender billet-doux.

The billet-doux, when I receive, I press it to my throbbing heart; Sweet words! I cry, such joys you give, Oh! never, never, thence depart; And now it to my lips is press'd; But when the magic name I view, Again I clasp it to my breast, My fond, my tender billet-doux.