We were very tired, we were very merry-- 
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. 
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable-- 
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table, 
We lay on a hilltop underneath the moon; 
And the whistles kept blowing, and the dawn came soon. 

We were very tired, we were very merry-- 
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry, 
And you ate an apple, and I ate a pear, 
From a dozen of each we had bought somewhere; 
And the sky went wan, and the wind came cold, 
And the sun rose dripping, a bucketful of gold. 

We were very tired, we were very merry, 
We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry, 
We hailed "Good morrow, mother!" to a shawl-covered head, 
And bought a morning paper, which neither of us read; 
And she wept, "God bless you!" for the apples and pears, 
And we gave her all our money but our subway fares. 
--EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY, in Poetry.

I was very sad, I was very solemn-- 
I had worked all day grinding out a column. 
I came back from dinner at half-past seven, 
And I couldn't think of anything till quarter to eleven; 
And then I red "Recuerdo," by Miss Millay, 
And I said, "I'll bet a nickel I can write that way."

I was very sad, I was very solemn-- 
I had worked all day whittling out a column. 
I said, "I'll bet a nickel I can chirp such a chant," 
And Mr. Geoffrey Parsons said, "I'll bet you can't." 
I bit a chunk of chocolate and found it sweet, 
And I listened to the trucking on Frankfort Street.

I was very sad, I was very solemn-- 
I had worked all day fooling with a column. 
I got as far as this and took my verses in 
To Mr. Geoffrey Parsons, who said, "Kid, you win." 
And--not not that I imagine that anyone'll care-- 
I blew that jitney on a subway fare.