This erstwhile fair American,
This imitation "Japanee."
Her white hands fluttered here and there
Among the tea cups on the tray,
Then hid themselves in her wide sleeves
In just the most entrancing way.
I asked to taste her fragrant brew,
Though tea, I hold, is not for man;
She served me, but with drooping lids
Demure as pagan Puritan.
But as I handed back the cup
She sudden lifted up her eyes,
This imitation "Japanee."
Her white hands fluttered here and there
Among the tea cups on the tray,
Then hid themselves in her wide sleeves
In just the most entrancing way.
I asked to taste her fragrant brew,
Though tea, I hold, is not for man;
She served me, but with drooping lids
Demure as pagan Puritan.
But as I handed back the cup
She sudden lifted up her eyes,
And, heart athrob, I seemed to stand
Full in the light of Paradise!
To reach her hand I moved so close
I trod upon her *broidered storks
And brushed her cranes, nor stopped to think
If in "Japan" Dame Grundy talks.
I know not if that tea were drugged
With some sweet philter from afar—
I only know I lost my heart
To Kitty at the Kik-u-Cha!
Full in the light of Paradise!
To reach her hand I moved so close
I trod upon her *broidered storks
And brushed her cranes, nor stopped to think
If in "Japan" Dame Grundy talks.
I know not if that tea were drugged
With some sweet philter from afar—
I only know I lost my heart
To Kitty at the Kik-u-Cha!
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