"No!" The word

Fell upon my ears

Like the knell of a funeral bell.

I had fondly expected

A whispered "yes" that

Would steal into my soul

Like the song of an angel

From some distant Aidenn.

I arose and brushed off

The knees of my trousers.

"Farewell," I said; "you have ruined my life."

"Nonsense," she replied in the cold, cutting voice

Of a woman who has been used to $100 bills

And a coupÉ;

"There have been thirty-seven before you, and they

Are all married and happy now.

You see I know all about young men."

"I do not think a young, timid girl

Should 'No' so much," I answered. And going out

(Carefully escorted by the butler, for there was

A better overcoat than mine in the hall),

I left her alone and unloved,—with no one to care for her

Save a couple of dozen servants

And a doting father and mother.