Their fantastic light tow,
That their husbands, upstairs, also "poker"
Yes, ladies, you well may cry "Owe!"
If the husbands but knew
How their wives flirt below,
They would sing to them—"Glou!"
For they'd stick to them so
That the popinjays all would look elsewhere,
Nor want for a trip of the toe.
In the waltz I embraced