Tuesday, September 6, 2011

A Racy Little Poem

When lovely woman veils her bosom
With muslin fashionably thin,
What man with eyes, could e'er refuse 'em
From casually peeping in?
And when his ardent gaze returning,
The dry goods heav'd to deep drawn sighs
Would not his finger ends be burning
To press--his hat down o'er his eyes?

--Ann Arbor Journal, Sept. 5, 1860

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