He Is Quite The Thing
When Charley did his love confess,
In words so sweet he did complain,
Pray ladies how could I do less,
Than love this chariming youth again?
For he can dance with graceful ease,
Can touch with magic skill the string
Formed every female heart to please,
The girls all say he is quite the thing.
His teeth are white as mountain snow,
His sparkling eyes as jet are black
In short, the truth to let you know,
There is no charm which he doth lack.
The merry dance he will join with ease,
Or touch with with magic skill the string,
Formed every female heart to please--
I am sure you will say he is quite the thing.
With him I went to sweet Vaunhall,
And crowds of well-dressed beaux were there,
But none I saw amongst them all,
With my dear Charley could compare.
The ladies do not blame me, pray--
For when he bought a wedding ring
I blushed, but could not answer nay--
Because you know he is quite the thing.