TO MAUDE.
(In and Out of Church.)
A little saint! At church I see you pray,
As if a worldly thought would make you faint,
Serenely walking on your heavenly way,
A little saint.
And yet—although I would make no complaint.—
You quickly doff the grave to don the gay.
Your cheeks aren't wholly innocent of paint,
You flirt outrageously the livelong day.
Colloquially, dear Maude, in fact you ain't
I'm thoroughly rejoiced to say
A little saint.