He was a lad — a tender boy,
And she — she held him as her toy,
And when she wearied of his way
And would with other playthings play,
I heard him say beneath his breath:—
A fool am I; it is my death —
She jilted me — the little lass,—
I will not let such fooling pass
But shift at once some bitter dart
Back — back again into her heart,
But then thought he — All those who play
With fools are fools as well as they,
And so he made a living rule:—
It takes a fool to fool a fool.