See how she purrs, false puss! She deems her dot
May well out-glitter mine.
And he! That slow seductive smile I know.
At Cronstadt by the brine,
To that dear dulcet voice, not long ago,
My ears did I incline.
Ah! and those fine moustachios' conquering curl
Subdued my maiden heart.
For me those tendril-tips he'd twist and twirl,
Looking so gay, so smart;