THE DAMSEL I PREFER

All like a puff of breath,
Nothing they weigh on scales,
Lighter than a mere breath.
As light as a feather,
Still they live in high feather,
Without prestige of virginity.
Negatively intelligent they are,
Feign feather-brained guys.
At cock-crow,
To the gen domicile,
What a solitary visit.
Out of every ten, one is laudable;
Others are all phonies.
They have lost their feminine glory.
Lead them to the altar,
Is like buying a pig in a poke.
Their glory is dried up.
Discouraged and confused.
But the damsel I prefy,
Will be of laudable value.
Many things glitter in life,
But they are not all gold.
Many ladies are full of beauty,
Dozens have lost their glory.
But the damsel I prefer,
Will be full of virtue;
One that fears God.
The flowers are full of honey,
But only the bee finds out the sweetness.
Exercise patience I will,
Like the bee,
To find out the damsel of my choice.