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Why should I be twenty-three? What are the virtues they can see Just about to bloom in me In the magical year of twenty-three? Does a maiden, fair and free, Get prudent just at twenty-three? Whatever can the reason be That they want a girl just twenty-three?

Dignified matron, whoever you be, Would not twenty-two do for thee? Would twenty-one be shown to the door, And twenty told to come no more? Nineteen, perhaps, would hardly be fit, Eighteen strikes one as rather a chit. Why must you search o'er land and sea For the golden age of twenty-three?

Still the years glide on—for you and for me, We're nearer, or farther from, twenty-three.