Heigh Ho! Well, the season’s over!
Once again we’ve come to Lent!
Programme’s changes from balls and parties '
Now we’re ordered to repent.
Forty days of self-denial!
Tell you what, I think it pays '
Know’t’l freshen my complexion
Going slow for forty days.
No more savoury French suppers '
Such as Madame R– can give.
Well, I need a little thinning '
Just a trifle ' sure’s you live!
Sometimes been afraid my plumpness
Might grow into downright fat.
Rector urges need of fasting '
Think there’s lot of truth in that.
We must meditate, he tells us,
On our several acts of sin,
And repent them. Let me see now '
Whereabouts shall I begin!
Flirting ' yes, they say 'tis wicked;
Well, I’m awful penitent.
(Wonder if my handsome major
Goes to early Mass though Lent?)
Love of dress! I’m guilty there too '
Guess it’s my besetting sin.
Still I’m somewhat like the lillies,
For I neither toil or spin.
Forty days I’ll wear my plainest '
Could repentance be more true?
What a saving on my dresses!
They’ll make over just like new.
Pride, and worldliness and all that,
Rector bade us pray about
Every day through Lenten season,
And I mean to be devout!
Papa always talks entrenchment '
Lent is just the very thing.
Hope he’ll get enough in pocket
So we’ll move up town next spring.