My moods are most ‘adaptive;’
I ne’er a valse or gallop dance,
But what I make a captive.
“I murmur out on balconies,
And ‘spoon’ upon staircases;
I like to see men on their knees,
I put up with embraces.
“And if they kiss me, well-a-day,
The liberty I pocket;
’Twould be unkind to say him ‘Nay,’