We might have lived a life of bliss,

But for a couple other beau,

Who thought at once that they’d propose;

They never dreamed of it before,

Nor would till they had been four score.

If I had still kept “fancy free,”

They never would have fancied me.

“It seldom rains but what it pours”—

Too many beaus are often bores.

I cutely kept my matters mum,