HA! HA!
HA! HA!
When summer suns are glancing on the merry damsels dancing
’Neath the pendulous aroma of the beauty-blushing vine;
When summer birds are cooing, in a pantomimic wooing
’Mid the azure-dimpled ether, which the poet calls divine:
I win a frolic girl,
From the rustle and the whirl,
And I say she is a seraph and I swear she is a pearl—
Ha! Ha!
Ha! Ha!
Who is gentler, who is fairer, ha! ha! who is sweeter,
Who is brighter, ha! ha! who is wittier and neater,
Than the queen of my spirit—its glorified defeater—
Ha! Ha! Ha! Malgherita! Malgherita!
Ha! gaily we are flying, with laughter, love and sighing,
O’er the valley of Berilla, in its livery of green!
Ha! madly we are dashing by the torrent thunder-flashing,
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