The Je ne sçai Quoi. A SONG

Yes, I'm in love, I feel it now, And CAELIA has undone me! And yet I'll swear I can't tell how The pleasing plague stole on me.

'Tis not her face which love creates, For there no graces revel; 'Tis not her shape, for there the fates Have rather been uncivil.

'Tis not her air, for sure in that There's nothing more than common; And all her sense is only chat, Like any other woman.

Her voice, her touch might give th' alarm— 'Twas both perhaps, or neither; In short, 'twas that provoking charm Of CAELIA altogether.