Poetry Archives

First time I dared propose,
          A callow lad was I;
I donned my Sunday clothes,
          I wore my Old School Tie.
Awaiting me Louise
          Was dolled to beat the band,
So going on my knees
          I begged her hand.

Oh yes, she gave me her hand,—
          A box upon the ear;
I could not understand,
          I blinked away a tear.
Then scornfully she said:
          ‘Next time you kneel before
A maid, young man don’t spread
          Your hankey on the floor.’

So next time I proposed,
          Thinks I, I’ll treat ’em rough.
Her name was Lily Rose,
          I gave her he-man stuff.
I yanked her on my knee,
          And as her ear I bit,
To my amazement she
          Seemed to like it.

The old cave-men knew best;
          Grab girlies by the hair,
And though they may protest
          Drag them into your lair.
So young men seeking mates,
          Take my tip, if rejected:
A modern maid just hates
          To be respected.