In Spring,
While softly cooed
The Dove,
Sam
Told Selina of
His Love.

The Summer Moon smiled on them both,
Selina plighted him her Troth.

But Autumn brought a gayer Swain—
Selina broke it off again.

'Tis Winter now—
Selina's slack—
She'd give her thumbs to have him back.

Yet—
When they met
She tossed her head;
He
Stared at her and
Cut her dead!