Like a frightened fawn, my Chloë,
Looking for his timid dam,
Fearful of the breezes blowy,
Come you never where I am.

Tiger am I not nor lion
Leave your ma; you're old enough.
Cast your wise and pretty eye on
Him who wrote this tender stuff.

Like a frightened fawn, my Chloë,
Looking for his timid dam,
Fearful of the breezes blowy,
Come you never where I am.

Tiger am I not nor lion
Leave your ma; you're old enough.
Cast your wise and pretty eye on
Him who wrote this tender stuff.