| William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909. | | | | The Je Ne Sais Quoi | | By William Whitehead (1715–1785) |
| | | YES, I’m in love, I feel it now, | |
| And Celia has undone me; | |
| And yet I swear I can’t tell how | |
| The pleasing pain stole on me. | |
| |
| ’Tis not her face which love creates, | 5 |
| For there no graces revel; | |
| ’Tis not her shape, for there the fates | |
| Have rather been uncivil. | |
| |
| ’Tis not her air, for sure in that | |
| There’s nothing more than common; | 10 |
| And all her sense is only chat, | |
| Like any other woman. | |
| |
| Her voice, her touch, might give th’ alarm; | |
| ’Twas both, perhaps, or neither; | |
| In short, ’twas that provoking charm | 15 |
| Of Celia altogether. | | | | |
|
|
