Explore "Myrtilla's Third Degree" by Franklin P. Adams on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
(With deep bows to Adelaide Anne Proctor's heirs, / administrators and assigns.)
Before I trust my Fate to thee, / Or place my hand in thine -- / (This is an easy parody, / Without a change of line.) / Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul to-night for me.
Is there, within thy dimmest dreams, / This dread ambition, Myrt? / Hast thou the ghost of a desire / To wear a hobble / [Footnote: "Harem," or whatever is to come in the future, / may be substituted here.] skirt? / If so, at any pain or cost, oh, tell me before all is lost.
Look deeper still. Dost underline / Most words in writing letters? / Or "Local" write on envelopes? / Say, ere I bind my fetters. / Let no false pity spare the blow, but in true mercy tell me so.
Once more. Dost thou, in easy speech, / Ever let fall "those kind"? / Art thou to nutmeg in a pie / Unalterably inclined? / If aught of these, maid of my wooing, there's absolutely nothing doing.