Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?

Why don't the men propose, mamma?
Why don't the men propose?

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say read more

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say of her they mean
No more than on the thing they lean.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
read more

'Tis enough--
Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart be sure is not of ice,
And one refusal no rebuff.

"Yes," I answered you last night;
"No," this morning, sir, I say:
Colors seen by candle-light
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"Yes," I answered you last night;
"No," this morning, sir, I say:
Colors seen by candle-light
Will not look the same by day.

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and read more

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:
Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.

How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
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How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
As to the pipe of Pan,
Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride
Across the fields to Anne.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.

Not much he kens, I ween, of woman's breast,
Who thinks that wanton thing is won by sighs.