I sang for my girlages before, I found her by the crimson moonAges, before, love was a crimeSome paper, bills, who made it fineTo the melody of her arms,I weep, seldomSo seldom, That, she never made it to my lips!A pair of cupid balls, that joggled
Every by and then, in my salad daysHer cyan sleeves, and dark cheeksFlaunt me a grubby modestyHer soppy, limbs, and rainbow smileI ran to, her, grasping her sleek fingersThe world went poxywhen our eyes met, for a whileThese days, churn so blind;I canoodle every girl but found none so kind