I WENT INTO a public 'house, to get a pint 'o stout
The barmaid turned and smiled at me, which really knocked me out;
A little braid o' blond, o' course, hung down below her nape,
And when she bent to fill my glass, I scanned her luvly shape.

Now don't you get the wrong idea, I'm well beyond my prime,
And this buxom lass w' soft brown eyes, could scant be ten and nine:
THO' 'OPE is but a foolish bird, and fantasy's a trance--
Still my heart beat palpably, as tho' it 'ad a chance.