Did not thy reason and thy sense,

With most persuasive eloquence,

Convince me that obedience due

None may so justly claim as you,

By right of beauty you would be

Mistress o'er my heart and me.


Then...

Poet:

As I was walkin' the jungle round, a-klllin' of tigers an' time,

I seed a kind of an author man, a writin' a rousin' rhyme;

'E was writin' a mile a minute an' more, an' I sez to 'im: "Oo are you?"

Sez 'e, "I'm a poet—'er majesty's poet—...

Poet:

The Manner of its Death

When Certain it must die —

'Tis deemed a privilege to choose —

'Twas Major Andre's Way —


When Choice of Life — is past —

There yet remains a Love

Its little Fate to stipulate...

Poet: