The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | ||
THE STRATAGEM
Who'd win a heart must learn the artTo hide what he's about.
When Kate I met, too soon I let
My loving secret out.
In vain I'd sigh, in vain I'd try
Each trick of eye or speech;
Advance, retire, neglect, admire,
The rogue I could not reach.
Then I grew warm and in a storm
Against her out I blew,
But she stood fast before my blast
And raging I withdrew.
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I went to Rose Maguire,
Who'd had her scene with Con Mulqueen,
And asked her to conspire.
Says she, “Avick, we'll try the trick,”
And so we shammed sweethearts,
Till Con grew vexed and Kate perplexed,
So well we played our parts:
And when we found them turning round
The very way we wanted,
Our stratagem we owned to them
And got our pardon granted.
The Irish Poems of Alfred Perceval Graves | ||