And ’most every other ism,
When you wrote, a while ago,
Ζώη μοῦ, σὰς ἀγαπώ,
Let me tell you this, my dear:
Though your lettering was clear,
Though the ancient sages Greek
Would be glad to hear you speak,
They would be replete with woe
At your μοῦ, σὰς ἀγαπώ.
For, dear maiden most astute,