Be Quiet, or I'll Scream.
One bright mid-summer eve, with Harry by my side,
As we went strolling forth, I fancied that he sighed;
His arm around my waist-with joy his eyes did beam-
He asked a kiss; say I, "be quiet, or I'll scream."
We reached my cottage door, he bade me there good-bye-
My heart rebuked me then, I thought of his deep sigh;
So, smiling at my beau, who rather glum did seem,
Says I, "love, take a kiss, I never meant to scream."
We tread the same old path, though years I've been his wife,
Our days glide on in bliss, we know no care or strife:
And when we reach one spot, as bright the moon doth beam,
He laughs, And so do I, 'twas there I said I'd scream.
His heart is all my own, and his 6weet kisses, too;
He's just as constant now as when he came to woo;
The walks are just the same, the moon as bright doth beam;
And if he failed to kiss, oh I dear, how I should scream.