She calls herself a good goer. 

But I know she is a good little sprinter

Of her business in some small way, 
Wanting her hidden private life.

Who can defy the ultimate luxury
For such an euphoric gift of nature?

A small, small happiness she said, 
Meets my slow and easygoing life. 

O God I say, I found her at last,
Asking for a humble future life.

In August became she the sweet,
Sweetest my little angel wife. 

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