A third adorer had the girl,
A man of lowly station--
A miserable grov'ling earl
Besought her approbation.
This humble cad she did refuse
With much contempt and loathing;
He wore a pair of leather shoes
And cambric underclothing!
"Ha! ha!" she cried, "Upon my word!
Well, really--come, I never!
Oh, go along, it's too absurd!
My goodness! Did you ever?
"Two dukes would make their Bowles a bride,
And from her foes defend her"--
"Well, not exactly that," they cried,
"We offer guilty splendor.
"We do not offer marriage rite,
So please dismiss the notion!"
"Oh, dear," said she, "that alters quite
The state of my emotion."
The earl he up and says, says he,
"Dismiss them to their orgies,
For I am game to marry thee
Quite reg'lar at St. George's."
He'd had, it happily befell,
A decent education;
His views would have befitted well
A far superior station.
His sterling worth had worked a cure,
She never heard him grumble;
She saw his soul was good and pure
Although his rank was humble.
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