Jenny was my first sweetheart; <br />Poor lass! she was none too smart. <br />Though I swore she'd never rue it, <br />She would never let me do it. <br />When I tried she mad a fuss, <br />So damn pure and virtuous. <br />Girls should cozen all they can, <br />Use their wiles to get their man. <br /> <br />June, my second, was no prude; <br />Too good-looking to be good; <br />Wanton and a giddy-gadder, <br />Never knew who might have had her; <br />Kept me mad and jumping jealous, <br />Tempting all the other fellows <br />Like a wayside flower to pluck her: <br />So at last I had to chuck her. <br /> <br />Now I'm settled down with Jill, <br />And we're safely married still. <br />She began to wail and worry, <br />So we wedded in a hurry. <br />Well, it's quite all right that way - <br />We're all made of common clay, <br />And the grey-haired folk that bore us <br />Just as wanton were before us. <br /> <br />June, I hear, now lives in London <br />Where, I fear, she's sadly undone. <br />Jenny, still as virtuous <br />Missed the matrimonial bus, <br />Where our "first" set gossips buzzin' <br />Jill and I now have a dozen, <br />Ready in their turn to prove <br />There's no chastity in love. <br /> <br />June, so fickle and so fair, <br />Common was as barber's chair; <br />Jill provides me with good grub, <br />Lets me go nights to the pub. <br />Though her silver hairs are many, <br />One eve I might call on Jenny . . . <br />She may not need too much urging: <br />Must be hell to die a virgin.<br /><br />Robert William Service<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/village-virtue/
