It's only a dern'd spoony fool goes sentimental-
ising!
But give'em now and then a bit of notice and a
present,
And lor, they're just like doves, that sit on one
green branch, all pleasant!
But Abe's love was a queer complaint, a sort of
tertian fever,
Each case he cured of thought the Saint a
thorough-paced deceiver;