Copyright, 1894, by Chaa W. Held.
Words and Music by Gussie L. Davis.
I'm In love with a sweet little fairy,
She's an angel, this dear little lass:
Her father's a preacher, she's a Sunday-school teacher,
I wish I could be in her class.
To the home of the neighbors she's welcome,
She's a maiden you all must adore;
And the people all say, when she passes each day,
"There goes sweet Delia Moore."
Delia, Delia, some one might steal you: why don't you marry me?
No father, mother, sister or brother will be, love, so true to thee.
Oh, I'll be the envy of all the boys, you'll never regret It, I'm sure;
How the church bells will ring, and the birde sweetly sing,
if you'll be mine, Delia Moore.
Wednesday evening's her time for receiving,
'Tis then all her adorers are there:
Her manner entrancing would set you a-dancing,
She's free from all sorrow and care,
But she won't talk of love nor of marriage,
I have tried it so often before,
And I gen'rally stay till the boys go away,
To whisper this at the door:- Refrain.