When I told her my Love.

When I told her my love, She was maidenly shy, And she bit at her glove.

I gave Cupid a shove; Yes, I begged him to try, When I told her my love

What was she thinking of As she uttered that sigh And she bit at her glove?

And pray what does it prove That she stopped there to sigh, When I told her my love And she bit at her glove?