Love, with a Witness

He has shav'd off his whiskers and blacken'd his brows,
Wears a patch and a wig of false hair,--
But it's him--Oh it's him!--we exchanged lovers' vows,
When I lived up in Cavendish Square.

He had beautiful eyes, and his lips were the same,
And his voice was as soft as a flute--
Like a Lord or a Marquis he look'd when he came,
To make love in his master's best suit.

If I lived for a thousand long years from my birth,
I shall never forget what he told;
How he lov'd me beyond the rich women of earth,
With their jewels and silver and gold?

When he kiss'd me and bade me adieu with a sigh,
By the light of the sweetest of moons,
Oh how little I dreamt I was bidding good-bye
To my Missis's tea-pot and spoons!