NOT A MATCH.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 33, 16 August 1890, Page 15

NOT A MATCH.

Kitty, sweet and seventeen, Pulls my hair and calls me ‘ Harry ;’ Hints that I am young and green ; Wonders if I wish co many. Only tell me what reply Is the best response for Kitty ; She’s but seventeen, and I— I am forty—more’s the pity. Twice at least my Kitty’s age (Just a trifle over, maybe), I am sober, I am sage ; Kitty, nothing but a baby. She is merriment and mirth, I am wise and gravely witty : She’s the dearest thing on earth ; I am forty—more’s the pity. She adores my pretty rhymes— Calls me ‘ poet ’ when I write them — And she listens oftentimes Half an hour when I recite them. Let me scribble by the page Sonnet, ode or lover's ditty ; Seventeen is Kitty’s age ; I am forty—more’s the pity.