The Melodist/The Girl I Love
The Girl I love.
Let Poets their mistresses' praises rehearse,And adorn each proud fair with a fiction of verse.A goddess and I should, I'm sure, ne'er agree,For the girl that I love is a mortal like me.
Kind Nature has blest her with charms, I must own,But for these she's indebted to Nature alone;No art, no design in my Ellen I see,For the girl that I love is a mortal like me.
Health blooms on her cheek, virtue smiles in her eye,I love her most dearly, I'll tell her for why,She laughs, sings, and dances is lively and free,And, in truth, she’s no more than a mortal like me.
I apply not to Venus nor Cupid for aid,But apply where I love, to my beautiful maid;This alono the fond wish of my bosom shall be,Love a mortal, dear Ellen, and let him be me.