A maiden fair, without pretense,
And when they asked her humble name,
She whispered mildly, "Common Sense."
Her modest garb drew every eye,
Her ample cloak, her shoes of leather;
And when they sneered, she simply said,
"I dress according to the weather."
They argued long and reasoned loud,
In dubious Hindoo phrase mysterious;
While she, poor child, could not pine