Who loved me in a manner true,
My heart would point him out to me,
And I would point him out to you,
But hear and see of those who point,
Their manners must be out of joint.
It's manners out of joint to point.
Had I the love of such as he,
Some quiet spot he'd take me to,
Then he could whisper it to me,
And I could whisper it to you.
But whispering I've somewhere met
Is contrary to etiquette.
If any well -bred youth I knew,
Polite and gentle, neat and trim,
Then I would hint as much to you,
And you could hint as much to him,
But here it says, in cleanest print,
It's personally denied to hint.
You may not hint, you must not hint,
It says you mustn't hint in print.
And if I loved him through and through,
True love and thought are
Then I could speak of it to you,
And you could speak of it to him.
But here I find it doesn't do to
speak until you're spoken to.
Yes, yes, don't speak until
