ONE summer night, in twilight dim, A fellow wooed a maiden prim. Around her waist, with some alarm, The naughty man had put his arm. Her dimpled hand he stroked awhile, Then murmured low, with loving smile, "Could e'er so soft a thing be found, If all the world were searched around?" With laughing eyes and flaming cheeks, The maid replied, "'Tis just two weeks Since I found out that you, my pet, Have something that is softer yet!" "That I? I have? Oh, can it be? You darling, now I @3do@1 love thee!" Oh, Vanitas! No sooner said, She put her hand upon his head. |