Now what the dickens shall I do?
I bring my cry for help to you —
On every side deep woe besets;
My heart runs over with regrets,
For I'm the kind of chap, I trow,
That never learned to answer " No! "

Whate'er a maiden asks of me,
No matter what the favor be,
I always promptly answer " Yes , "
And hence hath risen my distress —
Distress indeed of such a kind
That it has nearly wrecked my mind.

Last week I called on fair Babette,
On Susan, Bess, and dear Janette;
On Genevieve, Matilda, Jane,
Priscilla, Prue, and Madeleine;
And — how my poor heart whirls and whirrs —
E ACH MAIDEN ASKED ME TO BE HERS !

'Twas " Yes " to Bab, and " Yes " to Prue;
'Twas " Yes " to Genevieve and Sue;
'Twas " Yes " to Madeleine, and " Yes "
To Jane, Priscilla, Mat, and Bess —
And quite a dozen others too —
O what the dickens shall I do!