And you saw that I did. Which perhaps was the reason
Of your "No!" when I asked "May I have it?" You swore
You were going to be shot at the close of the season,
And you couldn't spare that, as there weren't any more.
But at length I prevailed, or at least you relented,
After ever so many excuses--in fine
We agreed to a compact, you only consented
On condition I gave you a portrait of mine.
Well, I promised, of course. And I write you these verses
With your face--you'll forgive me--quite close to my own.
There's a charm in your look that completely disperses
All my cares in a way that is yours, dear, alone.
And although I am pleased, since I won in the end--a
More ridiculous bargain has never, I vow,
Been arranged than a picture of pretty MELENDA,
In exchange for the photograph sent to you now.
We did not meet again through some horrible blunder,
Which a merciless Fate must be asked to explain,
And I sometimes sit smoking, and wearily wonder
If I ever _am_ destined to see you again.
Yet wherever the future may possibly find you,
To this final request do not answer me Nay,
When I ask that this gift of myself may remind you
Of the friend who was with you that evening in May.
* * * * *
[Illustration: BREAKING THE ICE.
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