American Old Time Song Lyrics: 16 Miss Julia

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 16

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Have you ne'er been in love, if you have'nt I have,
To the mighty god, Cupid, I've been a great slave;
He shot in my bosom a quiver of arrows,
Like naughty boys shoot the cock-robin and sparrows.
My heart was as pure as the white alabaster,
'Till Cupid my bosom did quite overmaster;
Ye gods only know how I loved Miss Julia,
There was something about her so very peculiar.

Like a beautiful peach was the cheek of Miss Julia,
And then in her eye there was something peculiar,
Speaking volumes which darted each glance to my marrow,
As swift and as keen as the wicked boy's arrow."
A catch in the eye to her looks added vigor,
A catch in the eye often tends to disfigure;
Twas not so with the catch in the eye of Miss Julia,
There was something about it so very peculiar.

'Twas first at a ball that our hands did entwine,
I did squeeze her lingers and she did squeeze mine;
To be my next partner I ventured to press her,
And I found that she lisped when she answered me yeth thir.
In lisping I think there is something uncommon,
I like in particular the lisp of a woman;
I know you would like the lisp of Miss Julia,
There was something about it so very peculiar.

Good friends were we then 'mid smiles and 'mid tears,
I courted her nearly for three of four years;
I took her to balls and to plays, oh, ye powers,
How sweetly and swiftly did then pass the hours.
'Till once at a ball one's feeling can't smother,
She danced all the evening along with another;
I didn't say nothing that night to Miss Julia,
But couldn't help thinking twas very peculiar.

I went there next day. when she to my heart's core
Cut me up by requesting I'd come there no more;
And she'd be affronted if longer I tarried,
For next week to another she was to be married.
God's Julia, cried I, oh, then you don't say so!
Oh, yes, but I do, and you'd better go!
Well, then, I will go, but you'll own it, Miss Julia,
Your behavior to me has been very peculiar.
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