Little rogue!

was sitting beside
My destined bride,
One still sentimental day:
“How I long,” said I,
“But to make you cry,
And I’d kiss the bright tears away!”
Fair Cecily blush’d,
Her voice grew hush’d,
I thought she would cry to be sure:
But she lisp’d to me,
Pouting prettily,
“Prevention is better than cure!”
J. S.