Page:Departmental Ditties and Ballads and Barrack-Room Ballads, Kipling, 1899.djvu/108

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THE BETROTHED

"You must choose between me and your cigar."

Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.


We quarrelled about Havanas—we fought o'er a good cheroot,
And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.


Open the old cigar-box—let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.


Maggie is pretty to look at—Maggie's a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.


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