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TO A FLIRT.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

The graceful feet and dance.

I love you for the willow form

That seems to sway in tune

To the sweet vows you swore last night

By the pale crescent moon.

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But crescent moons change once a month,

E'en angel tongues can scold,

And tender eyes grow red with tears,

And naivete grow bold.

And fairy feet can stamp with rage,

A marble brow can frown,

A dainty mouth grow obstinate,

And hair both false and brown.

And blushes can serve deep designs

As well as modest look,

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