she stepped out one fine day to while
and found a pest annoy, “I know what makes your secret smile,” (as she met conceit there on the lane),“so don’t be so coy.”
And in reply with curtsy, she did sweetly say,
“I am sure I am not so urbane”
Because, we must confess, something he would never know
in truth it was the silkiness of freedom that did lay
with nothing beneath her skirt that fine day
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