Pelham Grenville Wodehouse

To an Amazon

BEDELIA, ’neath your tiny boot
	My throbbing heart I throw:
Oh, deign to smile upon my suit –
	Presumptuous, I know.

My income is not large, it’s true,
	Of wealth I’m quite bereft:
But still – this must appeal to you –
	I’ve such a pretty left.
I never read romantic books,
	No verse can I recite;
I only know the jabs and hooks
	That go to win a fight:

I cannot sing nor dance with grace,
	But oh! I know the punch
That takes the victim on the place
	Where he has stowed his lunch.

I’ve loved you ever since the night
	(Which I remember still!)
When I put up that eight-round fight
	With Colorado BILL.

How well I recollect, my own,
	The soothing words you said, 
“Leave the gazebo’s wind alone,
	And swat him on the head!”

I’m but a worm compared to you,
	But still, I beg to state,
I’ve licked the world at ten stone two,
	Which is my fighting weight.

And if you will but marry me,
	BEDELIA, then perhaps
My second I will let you be
	In all my future “Scraps”.