I wrote her a letter. It took her quite two
To answer it after she'd read it.
My letter contained what perhaps even you
Have written,— at least, you have said it.
My letter contained the old tale of a heart
That longed to be linked to another;
And I told her to think on each separate part,
And ask the advice of her mother.
She apparently did, for the very next mail
Brought me a message of woe.
It took her two letters; they made me turn pale;
For they were the letters “N” “O”.