This page has been validated.
26
I wonder who'll be chosen queen,
I know who'd like to play it;
There's none so tall as me, I ween,
Nor prettier—tho' I say it.
And Lubin always says I tread
As stately as a Venus,
When I've one milk-pail on my head,
And another's held between us.
[Enter Lubin., &c.
'Long looked for, come at last,' they say—
I've wanted you for hours;
And now you have not a bouquet!
Here, take some garden-flowers.
Lubin.
"No, Dora, none of these for me,
To you I'll leave the rose,
And violets, too—for both, I see,
Your cheek and eye disclose.
And Marion may mate her pale
And fair face with the lily;
And jealous Nancy cannot fail
To choose the daffodilly.
