Lonely Lover's Lament

Oh, my lady is sweet, and I think she is neat, And you'd think just the same if you met her: She's perfection complete, from her head to her feet; In this world, I could love no-one better. Yet I sit here and cry, and you may ask me why — If I love her, then what is the matter? The trouble is, I am so terribly shy That I've never quite dared to look at her! I'm too nervous to speak, and my voice starts to squeak Every time that I try to talk to her; But if I weren't meek, she might think it was cheek, So I haven't the courage to woo her. How I wish I could be a bold hero so free Who could bravely and proudly pursue her, For the passion we'd see would reshape history... If I weren't so mild and demu-u-ure!