Select Poetry.
"SANS MERCI." A light girl's form and a baby face, Blue eyes, with a cool, soft stare; Tet they tell me,. Dick, she can go the pace In a way that would curl your hair. They Bay that she's not yet twenty-one, ' And she hardly looks eighteen; But she does not care for what girls call fun— She can hardly know what they mean. She played the deuce with good old Fred, Till he went to the Bast, you know; She had said to his face that sho wished him dead, * - For she had somebody else 'in tow. They said Harry blew out out his brains for debts On tho night of the last " Two Thou';" But I caw his book, aud, Tor all his bets, He might have been plunging now. ' And two men fought on the beach at Cowes; . One fell and tho other fled; And a Eomish priest would have brokon his vows, But he broke his heart instead. No, Dicky, you need not look so glum; She'll wait for a better match; She's not the girl for you, old chum; For you are not what they call a catch.' •^ . M.O.H. London Society. - -
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/THS18840823.2.2
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Thames Star, Volume XV, Issue 4874, 23 August 1884, Page 1
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198Select Poetry. Thames Star, Volume XV, Issue 4874, 23 August 1884, Page 1
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