oh, Madam Francis, I stand flabbergasted!,
when I glance upon your shadow, gray,
I thought beauty for sure ever lasted,
but now I'm enveloped with dismay.
The ocean waves would shamelessly recede,
an ardent attempt at flattery, I suppose,
man after man would attempt to succeed,
but now look at you, a sad, wilted rose.
Kings would transform into commoners,
just to see you pace along Martin's Lane,
beggars and hobos would transfigure,
just to receive a smile from this lovely dame.
But look at you now, a disgruntled old maid,
a dissatisfied hag, the chaff of grain,
did a single soul not run to your aid?
did a hapless finagler leave you insane?
whilst venturing in such reproachful thoughts,
I suddenly notice a man walk past,
Madam Francis, no longer distraught
with a sigh of relief, chants "Finally, at last!"
oh, Madam Francis, I stand flabbergasted!,
when I glance upon your shadow, gray,
I thought beauty for sure ever lasted,
but now I'm sure, it will always stay.