A Sportsmanlike(?) Song for September.
AIR—"You are Queen of my Heart To-night."
I Stand in the copses sighing
As the cruel hours creep by,
And I see you slowly flying
Above the trees on high.
Your wondrous wealth, of feather
Has weaved a subtle spell,
And I softly wonder whether
You'd really taste as well.
For my hand is fairly steady
Though my heart is beating fast,
Oh, tell me that you too are ready
To make this hour your last.
For repentance may come when we're sober,
Let's seize on the chance while we may;
Then why should we wait till October?
Oh! Why not be shot to-day?
Oh! tell me why, why should I remember
With a thought of wild alarm,
That all through the month of sweet September
You should be free from harm.
Why, why does your beauty enslave me,
As it does, you're bound to allow
Oh! say but the word that will save me,
And tell me to shoot you now.
For my heart is wildly beating
(As it's often done before),
And the moments madly fleeting
Are going to come never more.
For repentance may come when we're sober,
Let's seize on the chance while we may,
Then why should we wait till October?
Oh! Why not be shot to-day?