Yet

(AFTER F. E. W.)     Sing me a drawing-room song, darling!         Sing by the sunset's glow;     Now while the shadows are long, darling;         Now while the lights are low;     Something so chaste and so coy, darling!         Something that melts the chest;     Milder than even Molloy, darling!         Better than Bingham's best.     Sing me a drawing-room song, darling!         Sing as you sang of yore,     Lisping of love that is strong, darling!         Strong as a big barn-door;     Let the true knight be bold, darling!         Let him arrive too late;     Stick in a bower of gold, darling!         Stick in a golden gate.     Sing me a drawing-room song, darling!         Bear on the angels' wings     Children that know no wrong, darling!         Little cherubic things!     Sing of their sunny hair, darling!         Get them to die in June;     Wake, if you can, on the stair, darling!         Echoes of tiny shoon.     Sing me a drawing-room song, darling!         Sentiment may be false,     Yet it will worry along, darling!         Set to a tum-tum valse;     See that the verses are few, darling!         Keep to the rule of three;     That will be better for you, darling!         Certainly better for me.