Then she threw herself into the billowy wave,
And an echo arose from the suicide’s grave—
“Oh willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
Now I feel just as sure as I’m sure that my name
Isn’t willow, titwillow, titwillow,
’Twas inferior soap that thus made her exclaim,
“Oh willow, titwillow, titwillow!”
If Lever’s Sunlight Soap she’d happened to buy,
Her work had been done without trouble, and I
Should never have heard that most desolate cry—