Song. - Clara And I.

We have a joke whenever we meet,             Clara and I;     Prattle and laughter, and kisses sweet,             Clara and I.     Were I but twenty, and not two score,     Clara and I would laugh still more,     With plenty of hopeful years in store     For Clara and I, Clara and I;     With plenty of hopeful years in store             For Clara and I.     We will be true as Damascus steel,             Clara and I;     Sealing our truth with a honied seal,             Clara and I.     Eyes so loving, and lips of rose,     Cheeks where the dainty ripe peach grows,     And mouth where the sly god smiles jocose     At Clara and I, Clara and I;     And mouth where the sly god smiles jocose             At Clara and I.     We have a kiss whenever we part,             Clara and I;     Grasping of hand, and flutter of heart,             Clara and I.     Were she but twenty, and not sixteen,     Over my love she'd reign the queen,     And no fair rival should come between     My Clara and I, Clara and I;     And no fair rival should come between             My Clara and I.