但愿夜里她也不将我摘下。
It is the illers daughter，
And she is grown so dear， so dear，
That I would be the jewel
That trebles at her ear：
For hidrglets day and night，
Id touch her neck so war and white.
And I would be the girdle
About her daty daty waist，
And her heart would beat agast
In sorrow andrest：
And I should know if it beat right，
Id csp it round so close and tight.
And I would be the neckce，
And all day long to fall and rise
Upon her baly boso，
With her ughter or her sighs，
And I would lie so light， so light，
I scarce should be uncspd at night.