I’ve a portrait already of thee, ladie mine,
Love used the photographer’s art.
You look’d for awhile with your bonny bright smile,
And ’twas fix’d on my sensitive heart.
You do not believe it? Then see in my eyes
This image that dwells in my breast,
Thy minature, beauty mine, loving and gay,
Jumps up to convince you, and when you’re away,
Sinks back to the place of its rest.