A BUNCH OF TRIOLETS

By Robert Fuller Murray

You like the trifling triolet:

Well, here are three or four.

Unless your likings I forget,

You like the trifling triolet.

Against my conscience I abet

A taste which I deplore;

You like the trifling triolet:

Well, here are three or four.

Have you ever met with a pretty girl

Walking along the street,

With a nice new dress and her hair in curl?

Have you ever met with a pretty girl,

When her hat blew off and the wind with a whirl

Wafted it right to your feet?

Have you ever met with a pretty girl

Walking along the street?

I ran into a lady's arms,

Turning a corner yesterday.

To my confusion, her alarms,

I ran into a lady's arms.

So close a vision of her charms

Left me without a word to say.

I ran into a lady's arms,

Turning a corner yesterday.

How many maids you love,

How many maids love you!

Your conscious blushes prove

How many maids you love.

Each trusts you like a dove,

But would she, if she knew

How many maids you love,

How many maids love you?