This page has been validated.
LITTLE MISTRESS SANS-MERCI
That I count as passing sweet
All the pain her moods impart,
And I bless the little feet
That go trampling on my heart:
Ah, how lonely life would be
But for little Sans-Merci!
Little Mistress Sans-Merci,
Cuddle close this night to me,
And the heart, which all day long
Ruthless thou hast trod upon,
Shall outpour a soothing song
For its best-belovèd one—
All its tenderness for thee,
Little Mistress Sans-Merci!
[47]
