My peerless but progressive Fair,
To you my heart I proffer.
Time was when one knew where you were,
And how to make an offer.
Now, all too swiftly you advance
For Damon to pursue you.
Take pity on his ignorance,
And tell him _how_ to woo you!
If strong on Woman's Rights you are,
Upon her wrongs I'll ponder:
I'll win for you a _Wanderjahr_,
If I with you may wander.
Or does Humanity enthrall?
Before the summer passes
I'll run a moral Music Hall
To renovate the Masses.
Say, shall I write to you in verse
Of metre strange and frantic,
Which by neglect of barriers
Proves genius gigantic?
Is modern fiction dear to you?
In scandal while I grovel,
I will endeavour to outdo
Its most pernicious novel!
Belovèd, of _which_ patent creed
Shall I uplift the banner?
By telepathy shall I plead,
Or in the usual manner?
If after Occult Truth you grope,
Though now I'm no Mahatma,
From earthly bonds I yet might hope--
For you--to free my Atma!
Shall I by Geomancy show
Your lot and mine united,
The sign of _Acquisitio_
Foretelling love requited?
Or shall I from the planets prove
That long before I knew you
Our fates were linked? My modern love,
Oh, tell me _how_ to woo you!
* * * * *
[Illustration: WE'VE NOT COME TO THAT YET.
_She._ "I WAS SO GLAD TO HEAR OF YOUR MARRIAGE! DO COME TO US AND BRING
YOUR WIFE. BY THE WAY, WHAT IS YOUR NAME NOW?"
_He._ "OH, _I_ HAVEN'T CHANGED MY NAME. IT'S _SHE_, YOU KNOW!"]
* * * * *