They make a lot of fuss about Girls of the Younger Generation, Declaring that, beyond a doubt, They're doomed to something like damnation. Because they like to dance to jazz, Because they dress in manner scanty Each flapper, say her critics, has The status of a bold bacchante. Well, maybe so, but somehow you, Oh, débutante so blithe and breezy, Could beat the girl of 1902 At any game, and do it easy. You do not pinch your girlish waist, Your mind and body have more freedom, If knockers knock you in their haste I don't think you need always heed 'em. Still (I will merely whisper it Above my breath, and scarcely louder), I think you really must admit You put on too much rouge and powder. It gets you much misunderstood, For though you're not exactly sainted We know you're really pretty good And not as bad as you are painted. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AUBADE [OR, A MORNING SONG FOR IMOGEN], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE CLEVER TOM CLINCH GOING TO BE HANGED by JONATHAN SWIFT IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 25 by ALFRED TENNYSON CIRCUS AT NIGHT by MADELEINE AARON SONG by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE INNER TEMPLE MASQUE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) REQUIESCAT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |