Monday, May 11, 2015

Danger In Reform



She thought she spied, far down the beach,
     A manly form – her eyes
Took on a lustre, newly born,
     She hurried for her prize.

“‘Tis he, ‘tis he,” she murmured low,
     “He’s come to me at last;”
And on she tripped along the shore,
     To seize her booty fast.

She overtook him ‘neath the cliff,
     She touched him gently, whew!
He whirled about, alas! she swooned,
     He was a woman New!



May 11, ‘96
Pub. in N.Y. Herald,

 Aug. 16, 1896

No comments:

Post a Comment