While youth in form, I chose to take
Diversion as soubrette.
The young bloods pardoned me—they said—
For wearing hated breeches!
“For thou art not a real male;
Thou’rt like yon winking witches
Who throng these noisy promenades
Their favors fair to sell;
And kissing thee we deem as sweet
As kissing ma’moiZelle!