Ah, Myrtilla mine, you said- <br /> And your tone was earnest, very- <br />You would never deck your head <br /> With this vernal millinery. <br /> <br />Myrt, to mince no words, you lied; <br /> Oh, that I should live to know it! <br />You that are my nearly-bride; <br /> I that am your nearly-poet! <br /> <br />For I saw the awful lid <br /> You had on at 10 this morning; <br />Myrt, it was a merrywid, <br /> Spite of my decisive warning. <br /> <br />Still, I can forgive you that; <br /> Though the thing look ne'er so silly; <br />I will overlook the hat <br /> If you promise this, Myrtillie: <br /> <br />Wear your lacebelows and fluffs; <br /> Wear the awfullest creations- <br />But-omit the stylish puffs <br /> And the vogueish transformations. <br /> <br />Myrt, if you inflate your hair <br />I shall-well-excoriate you, <br />And, I positively swear, <br />Loathe, despise, detest, and hate you.<br /><br />Franklin P. Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-ultimatum-to-myrtilla/
