Because I was a wonton wild <br /> And welcomed many a lover, <br />Who is the father of my child <br /> I wish I could discover. <br />For though I know it is not right <br /> In tender arms to tarry, <br />A barmaid has to be polite <br /> To Tom and Dick and Harry. <br /> <br />My truest love was Poacher Jim: <br /> I wish my babe was his'n. <br />Yet I can't father it on him <br /> Because he was in prison. <br />As uniforms I like, I had <br /> A soldier and a sailor; <br />Then there was Pete the painter lad, <br /> And Timothy the tailor. <br /> <br />Though virtue hurt you vice ain't nice; <br /> They say to err is human; <br />Alas! one pays a bitter price, <br /> It's hell to be a woman. <br />Oh dear! Why was I born a lass <br /> Who hated to say: No, sir. <br />I'd better in my sorry pass <br /> Blame Mister Simms, the grocer.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/florrie/
