SONG [3]
When summer used to linger,
Before the daisies died,
You'd but to bend your finger
And I was by your side.
And, oh, my heart was breaking,
And, oh, my life was through;
You had me for the taking;
"Now run along," said you.
But now the summer's over,
And the birds have flown away,
And all the amorous clover
Has turned to sober hay.
And you're the one to tarry,
And you're the one to sigh,
And beg me, will I marry.
"The deuce I will," say I.
by Dorothy Parker
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