Before the virtuous British matrons.
And then his compliments began
To rain like drops of Frangipanni,
A most insinuating man
He was, this ancient DON GIOVANNI.
You felt, if you could half believe,
You'd but to word a whim to find it,
You quite forgot he owned a sleeve,
And several teeth to laugh behind it.
There may be kindness, lofty souls,