And many a lover who ardently sought
To o’ertake her gave up at the last in despair
When he found that her halting was only a snare,
And a month she’d been leading the witling a chase
When she tagged the old bachelor to run in the race.
So what could he do but to fall in the lair
Of her sudden side glance or her innocent stare?
Then away ran the bachelor along with the wit,
And he nearly caught up when she halted a bit,
And it was no great wonder the witling was peeved—