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Dorothy Parker - Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday
Work rating: Medium

So let me have the rouge again,
  And comb my hair the curly way.
The poor young men, the dear young men
  They`ll all be here by noon today.

And I shall wear the blue, I think-
  They beg to touch its rippled lace;
Or do they love me best in pink,
  So sweetly flattering the face?

And are you sure my eyes are bright,
  And is it true my cheek is clear?
Young what`s-his-name stayed half the night;
  He vows to cut his throat, poor dear!

So bring my scarlet slippers, then,
  And fetch the powder-puff to me.
The dear young men, the poor young men-
  They think I`m only seventy!
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