When Hearts Are Trumps

When I Told Her My Love

When I told her my love,
  She was maidenly shy,
And she bit at her glove.

I gave Cupid a shove;
  Yes, I begged him to try,
When I told her my love

What was she thinking of
  As she uttered that sigh
And she bit at her glove?

And pray what does it prove
  That she stopped there to sigh,
When I told her my love
And she bit at her glove?