Gallia

56 Words
Lady, lady neat Of the roguish eye, Wherefore dost thou hie, Stealthy, down the street, On well-booted feet? From French novels I Gather that you fly, Guy or Jules to meet. Furtive dost thou range, Oft thy cab dost change; So, at least, 'tis said: Oh, the sad old tale Passionately stale, We've so often read!
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