[Editor’s Note: Thanks to Tony Ring for providing a copy of this item.]


Pearson’s Magazine (UK), February 1908


Oh, Janet, on this planet
 There are maids of every kind:
There are some whose line is beauty,
 Some who specialise in Mind.
There are some whose eyes are black as night,
 And some whose eyes are blue;
But other men their charms may pen,
 For me there’s only you.

Oh, Janet, when I scan it,
 Ah! your face angelic seems.
How it haunts me in the day-time,
 How it permeates my dreams.
Around me other faces throng,
 They’re comely, it is true;
But other men their charms may pen;
 My quill’s reserved for you.

But, Janet, hard as granite
 Is the heart that in you throbs.
You scorn my protestations,
 And you giggle at my sobs.
Oh, smoothe away that haughty frown,
 That merriment eschew,
Or other men your charms may pen,
 I’ve something else to do.

P. G. Wodehouse.