May raindrops fall against your glass
And wink at you, and gently sigh,
Then happ’ly pass and slide on by,
In love with such a lovely lass.

They yearn to see, as they were me,
Your smiling lips and lovely eyes,
But do not burn, as I would do,
To break that glass and pass on through.

If I were they, I’d have strong will
To seek a window open slight,
To land upon the window sill
And wait till you came into sight.

Perhaps you’d touch me with your hand
And wonder at a drop so hot;
Then would your fingers squeeze me, grand—
Oh dear! If I could be that spot!