How together we talked tête-à-tête in the twilight,
When the glow of the sunset had faded away.
Then you showed me your album. I looked at its pages.
With yourself as my guide and companion went through
Its contents—there were people of all sorts and ages,
But the portrait I fancied the most was—of you.
And you saw that I did. Which perhaps was the reason
Of your "No!" when I asked "May I have it?" You swore
You were going to be shot at the close of the season,
And you couldn't spare that, as there weren't any more.