THE COBRA CAPELLO
She prates of Tom Noddy, the handsome young goose
Of Don Trombonetti, divine on the flute;
And then, with a smile that’s as arch as—the deuce,
Quotes pert panegyrics on somebody’s foot!
She’ll sing you a hymn or tell you a fib,
(Just one of those cynical, feathery trifles,)
And then, with a smirk that I think rather glib,
Sigh after some monster that left with the Rifles.
She vows I’m a miracle walking with men—
(Ugh! I swallow it all with a groan and a cough),
For I know that most women are comical, when
Their nightcaps are on and the visitors off!
Ay, rattle ahead and prattle away,
But, in sepulchred thought, I brood over another;
We parted, alas! about nine months today,
And we never must meet again—somehow or other.
They tell me, poor bird, it is painful to see
How you’ve changed, since we rode in the warm summer weather;
And oh, if I felt you were pining for me,
I’d hew me a path that would bring us together.
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