I'd not forbid my love to flirt,
It were a hopeless charge;
I'd only have those eyes of blue
More sure in their discharge.
I'd have you smile, then turn away,
Instead of simply stare;
I'd have you show a little pique,
And be less debonair.
I'd have you cast your lashes down,
With just a tinge of red
Reflected from your crimson fan
When something sweet is said.
I'd have you stammer at a word
And gently tap your hand,
As if, from soft embarrassment,