Ah, Myrtilla mine, you said-
And your tone was earnest, very-
You would never deck your head
With this vernal millinery.
Myrt, to mince no words, you lied;
Oh, that I should live to know it!
You that are my nearly-bride;
I that am your nearly-poet!
For I saw the awful lid
You had on at 10 this morning;
Myrt, it was a merrywid,
Spite of my decisive warning.
Still, I can forgive you that;
Though the thing look ne'er so silly;
I will overlook the hat
If you promise this, Myrtillie:
Wear your lacebelows and fluffs;
Wear the awfullest creations-
But-omit the stylish puffs
And the vogueish transformations.
Myrt, if you inflate your hair
I shall-well-excoriate you,
And, I positively swear,
Loathe, despise, detest, and hate you.
An Ultimatum To Myrtilla
Franklin Pierce Adams
(1)
Poem topics: hair, hate, never, warning, head, forgive, morning, bride, promise, live, poet, swear, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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