Alpine Holiday

 He took the grade in second - quite a climb,
Dizzy and dangerous, yet how sublime!
The road went up and up; it curved around
The mountain and the gorge grew more profound.

He drove serenely, with no hint of haste;
And then she felt his arm go round her waist.


She shrank: she did not know him very well,
Being like her a guest at the hotel.

Nice, but a Frenchman.
 On his driving hand
He wore like benedicks a golden band .
 .
 .

Well, how could she with grace refuse a drive
So grand it made glad to be alive?

Yet now she heard him whisper in her ear:
"Don't be afraid.
 With one hand I can steer,
With one arm hold you .
 .
 .
 Oh what perfect bliss!
Darling, please don't refuse me just one kiss.

Here, nigh to Heaven, let is us rest awhile .
 .
 .

Nay, don't resist - give me your lips, your smile .
 .
 .
"

So there in that remote and dizzy place
He wrestled with her for a moment's space,
Hearing her cry: "Oh please, please let me go!
Let me get out .
 .
 .
 You brute, release me! No, no,
 NO!"
.
 .
 .
 In that ravine was found their burnt-out car -
Their bodies trapped and crisped into a char.

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