A street in the city, a warm summer’s night,
A tall, pretty lassie, a youth gay and bright,
She, laughing and talking as slowly they passed,
He, thinking, “My angel, I’ve got you at last!”
“Suppose we have supper, my pretty,” he says,
“I know where to take you, a nice quiet place,
Of course you’ll say ‘yes,’ for it’s not very late,
And then I will see you as far as the gate.”
But before she could answer, a form that she knew,
Came quickly towards her, ah! what should she do?