When bells would ring, and all around us there
The posies would be growin’ sweet and tall,
I’d never mind if it was spring or fall—
But still I s’pose she couldn’t live on air.
V.
I THINK I’ll chuck this job and go and try
To be a supe with her, and by and by
Get speakin’ parts to play, and then—who knows?—
Be leadin’ man, at last, and wear dude clo’s.
I’d drink champagne whenever I was dry,