A PRESSING INVITATION.

O DO come to our ball, dearest Charley!

We depend on you; all the girls say

That you 've really not treated us fairly,

For the Dean will not know you 're away.

Fond fancy brings back in my day-dreams

All the fun that we had, dear, last year;

But all that I now have to say seems

To put your not coming past fear.

I am not now jealous of Carry. O,

Her castle of air had a fall!

I know you 're a gay young Lothario,

But, Charley, you 'll come to our ball!

You 'll see your pert friend, little Alice,

And all your old flames from our school:

I assure you I bear them no malice;

I 'm sixteen, and not such a fool.