LA RAISON D'ÊTRE.
83
Society life you "just hated"—
So you said, but I know you did not;
For a woman like you ne'er was sated
By that homage which falls to her lot.
So you said, but I know you did not;
For a woman like you ne'er was sated
By that homage which falls to her lot.
You never were given to gushing,
To raptures, hysterics, nor sham;
And you only brim o'er when you're "crushing"
Some poor, forlorn wife-seeking man.
To raptures, hysterics, nor sham;
And you only brim o'er when you're "crushing"
Some poor, forlorn wife-seeking man.
All your foibles and grace I admired
In a sort of indifferent way;
But, alas! 'twas not they which inspired
My tender regard for you, May.
In a sort of indifferent way;
But, alas! 'twas not they which inspired
My tender regard for you, May.
You remember the Jones's cotillion—
Well, 'twas there my heart ceased to beat free;
For you "fired" the French count worth a million
And danced the whole evening with me.
Well, 'twas there my heart ceased to beat free;
For you "fired" the French count worth a million
And danced the whole evening with me.
