GRACE’S CHOICE
When first I saw fair-featured Grace,
In dainty tailor-fashioned gown,
I fell in love with her sweet face,
And pooh-poohed at her escort, Brown.
The fellow’s rich, but such a clown!
I did not fear he’d rival me—
I, Reginald de Courcy Drowne,
With wealth and—looks and pedigree.
I set the man a red-hot pace;
It was the talk of all the town;
I knew that I was loved by Grace—
I knew it by that yokel’s frown.
My ancestors won great renown,
While Brown has no ancestral tree.
I knew I could the fellow down,
With wealth and—looks and pedigree.
She’s married now; has rare point lace,
And jewels fit to deck a crown.
The man who calls her “darling Grace,”
Is not the fellow they call Brown.
No, I’m the happiest man in town.
I knew she’d not say no to me,
One rarely sees Dame Fortune frown
On wealth and—looks and pedigree.