TO A.B.C.
I THOUGHT I knew all womankind,
The stately and the fair,
The sweet, the wise, the love-inclined,
The deft, the debonair;
"But never yet is one," I said,
"For whom grave Clotho spun
A strand of life of all fair thread
And never left out one."
The stately and the fair,
The sweet, the wise, the love-inclined,
The deft, the debonair;
"But never yet is one," I said,
"For whom grave Clotho spun
A strand of life of all fair thread
And never left out one."
But then, you see,
I did not know my A. B. C.
I did not know my A. B. C.