Persica
Oh Persica, Persica, pale and fair,
With a ripe blush on your cheek,
How pretty — how very pretty you are,
Until you begin to speak!
As for a heart and soul, my dear,
You have not enough to sin;
Outside so fair, like a peach you are,
With a stone for a heart within.
With a ripe blush on your cheek,
How pretty — how very pretty you are,
Until you begin to speak!
As for a heart and soul, my dear,
You have not enough to sin;
Outside so fair, like a peach you are,
With a stone for a heart within.
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