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May 1, 1863, Southern Confederacy (Atlanta, Georgia)

She is modest, she is bashful,
            Free and easy, but not bold–
Like an apple, ripe and mellow,
            Not too young, and not too old.
Half inviting, half repulsing,
            Now advancing, and now shy,
There is mischief in her dimple,
            There is danger in her eye.
She has studied human nature,
            She is schooled in all her arts,
She has taken her diploma
            And the mistress of all hearts
She can tell the very moment
            When to sigh and when to smile;
Oh! a maid is sometimes charming,
            But a widow all the while.
You are sad?  how very serious
            Will her handsome face become;
Are you angry?  she is wretched,
            Lonely, friendless, tearful, dumb.
Are you mirthful?  how her laughter,
            Silver sounding, will ring out;
She can lure and catch, and play you
            As the angler does the trout.
Ye old bachelors of forty
            Who have grown so bold and wise,
Young Americans of twenty,
            With your lovelooks in your eyes,
You may practice all the lessons
            Taught by Cupid since the fall,
But I know a little widow,
            Who could win and fool you all.