| |
| WHY don’t the men propose, mamma? | |
| Why don’t the men propose? | |
| Each seems just coming to the point, | |
| And then away he goes! | |
| It is no fault of yours, mamma, | 5 |
| That everybody knows; | |
| You fête the finest men in town, | |
| Yet, oh! they won’t propose! | |
| |
| I’m sure I’ve done my best, mamma, | |
| To make a proper match; | 10 |
| For coronets and eldest sons | |
| I’m ever on the watch; | |
| I’ve hopes when some distingué beau | |
| A glance upon me throws; | |
| But though he’ll dance, and smile, and flirt, | 15 |
| Alas! he won’t propose! | |
| |
| I’ve tried to win by languishing | |
| And dressing like a blue; | |
| I’ve bought big books, and talk’d of them | |
| As if I’d read them through! | 20 |
| With hair cropped like a man, I’ve felt | |
| The heads of all the beaux; | |
| But Spurzheim could not touch their hearts, | |
| And, oh! they won’t propose! | |
| |
| I threw aside the books, and thought | 25 |
| That ignorance was bliss; | |
| I felt convinced that men preferr’d | |
| A simple sort of Miss; | |
| And so I lisped out naught beyond | |
| Plain “Yeses” or plain “noes,” | 30 |
| And wore a sweet unmeaning smile; | |
| Yet, oh! they won’t propose! | |
| |
| Last night, at Lady Ramble’s rout, | |
| I heard Sir Harry Gale | |
| Exclaim, “Now I propose again!” | 35 |
| I started, turning pale; | |
| I really thought my time was come, | |
| I blushed like any rose; | |
| But, oh! I found ’t was only at | |
| Ecarté he’d propose! | 40 |
| |
| And what is to be done, mamma? | |
| Oh! what is to be done? | |
| I really have no time to lose, | |
| For I am thirty-one: | |
| At balls I am too often left | 45 |
| Where spinsters sit in rows; | |
| Why won’t the men propose, mamma? | |
| Why won’t the men propose? | |
| |
