To-day, fair Thisbe, winsome girl! br Strays o'er the meads where daisies blow, br Or, ling'ring where the brooklets purl, br Laves in the cool, refreshing flow. br To-morrow, Thisbe, with a host br Of amorous suitors in her train, br Comes like a goddess forth to coast br Or skate upon the frozen main. br To-day, sweet posies mark her track, br While birds sing gayly in the trees; br To-morrow morn, her sealskin sack br Defies the piping polar breeze. br So Doris is to-day enthused br By Thisbe's soft, responsive sighs, br And on the morrow is confused br By Thisbe's cold, repellent eyes.