Oh, ye gods of Mount Olympus, lend your pity, I implore,
I shall kiss her nevermore.
“Seems to me the air grows hotter. How I love this old man’s daughter!”
Were my musings as I held her—held the girl whom I adore.
While my Mary Ann was napping, suddenly I heard a rapping
Like a footfall softly tapping on the old man’s bedroom floor,
And I muttered, as I listened through the slightly opened door,
“I have heard that step before.”
I shook Mary Ann to wake her, and I said “May Old Nick take her!”
(But I’m sure I didn’t mean it), then she woke with one loud snore.