And, though not positive, I think

She'd heard about Savonarola,

Had studied Maurice Maeterlinck,

And read the works of Emile Zola,

And Emerson's and some of Kant's,

And all of mine and Shopenhauer's;

But still she cultivated plants,

And spent her life in tending flowers.

She had a little hedge of box,

Azalias, and a bed of tansy,

A double row of hollyhocks,

And every different kind of pansy:

And, though so innocent of look,

She'd lovers by the scores and dozens,

And learned, by talking with the cook,

To tell her friends they were her cousins.

The first was French, the second Greek,

The third was born upon the Mersey,

The fourth one came from Mozambique,

The fifth one from the Isle of Jersey.

I cannot tell about the rest,

But, judging from their dress and faces,

They came from north, east, south, and west,

But all of them from different places.

Now, such was Mary's sense of pride,

Despite their fervent protestations,

Before she vowed to be a bride

She set them all examinations:

She asked each one to tell the date

Of Washington and Cleopatra,

Name Dickens' novels, and locate

The site of Yonkers and Sumatra.

But so it chanced that, from a score

Of suitors resolute and haughty,

One gained a mark of sixty-four,

And all the rest were under forty.

One swain alone the rest outclassed;

Because of one audacious guess, he

This strict examination passed

When Mary asked the date of Crécy.

The moral shows that when a maid

Her life devotes unto a garden,

When horticultural skill's displayed

Her heart she does not dare to harden.

So crafty suitors, scorn the fates

And you may lay this flattering balm to

Your souls; if you but get your dates

The chances are you'll get the palm, too!