Twas just a slight flirtation,
    And where's the harm, I pray,
In that amusing pastime
    So much in vogue to-day?

Her hand was plighted elsewhere
    To one she held most dear,
But why should she sit lonely
    When other men were near?

They walked to church together,
    They sat upon the shore.
She found him entertaining,
    He found her something more.

They rambled in the moonlight;
    It made her look so fair.
She let him praise her beauty,
    And kiss her flowing hair.

'Twas just a nice flirtation.
    'So sad the fellow died.
Was drowned one day while boating,
    The week she was a bride.'

A life went out in darkness,
    A mother's fond heart broke,
A maiden pined in secret--
    With grief she never spoke.

While robed in bridal whiteness,
    Queen of a festal throng,
She moved, whose slight flirtation
    Had wrought this triple wrong.

Yesterdays. By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1916.

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