Perhaps beneath those flaunting robes are locked
Hearts once recoiling at the name of “Flirt”—
Hands that a nursery cradle might have rocked,
Or sewed the buttons on a husband’s shirt!
And who so bold as venture to presage
The fate of seeming best or seeming worst?
For woman’s the same mystery to the age,
She was to Senor Adam at the first.
Full many a fair, to hopeless love a prey,
Still in life’s drama plays a smiling part;