But still this gift I bring to her,
Appropriate to her age,
Regardless of her stifled scorn,
Or well conceal-ed rage!

She smiles upon these tender lines,
As you all plainly see,
But when she meets me all alone,
How different it will be!


Now comes Geoff's, to be given with a pretty little inkstand:-


There was a young maiden whose thought
Was so airy it couldn't be caught;
So what do you think?
We gave her some ink,
And captured her light-winged thought.


Here is Jack's last on Polly:-


There's a pert little poppet called Polly,
Who frequently falls into folly!
She's a terrible tongue
For a 'creetur' so young,
But if she were dumb she'd be jolly!