| On the summer shore, where the breakers roar
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| Lovers sat on the glist’ning sand
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| And they talked of love while the moon above
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| And the stars seemed to understand
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| Then she grew more cold, and he grew more bold
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| Till she tho’t that they had better go
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| But altho' he heard, he not even stirred
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| Only murmured in tones soft and low
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| Cuddle up a little closer, lovey mine
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| Cuddle up and be my little clinging vine
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| Like to feel your cheek so rosy
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| Like to make you comfy, cozy
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| 'Cause I love from head to toesie, lovey mine
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| Then she deigned to rest on his manly chest
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| Her dear head with its flowing curls
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| And she said, «I'd stay on this lap for aye
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| How I envy the Capland girls!»
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| For Miss Esquimaux, 'mid the ice and snow
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| Has no steam-heat when he comes to call
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| Not a single glim, so it’s up to him
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| To whisper in summer or fall
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| Cuddle up a little closer, lovey mine
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| Cuddle up and be my little clinging vine
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| Like to feel your cheek so rosy
|
| Like to make you comfy, cozy
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| 'Cause I love from head to toesie, lovey mine |