There dulcet notes were blending,

And strains divine from a violin

In harmony ascending.

Enraptured by the magic spell,

I lingering stood, and listening,

It seemed to me that I could tell

What love to her was whispering.

*   *   *   *   *

[Pg 48]

I looked above and chanced to see

The man in the moon was scowling,

For they had struck up "Sweet Marie,"

And the old watch-dog was howling!

[Pg 49]

[Pg 49]

"IS IT HOT ENOUGH FER YOU?"

I wouldn't mind the weather much—I'd sizzle and I'd stew,

And do the very best I could the heat to struggle through,

If I could find some way, you know, the feller to eschew,

Who greets you with the chestnut phrase—

 Prev. P 46/105 next