Alice
‘Alice, Alice, put on your things!
The birds are calling, the church bell rings;
The sun is shining, and I am here,
Waiting—and waiting—for you, my dear.
Alice, Alice, doff your gown of night,
Draw on your bodice as lilies white,
Draw on your petticoats, clasp your stays,—
Oh! Alice, Alice, those milky ways!
Alice, Alice, how long you are!
The hour is late and the church is far;
Slowly, more slowly, the church bell rings—
Alice, Alice, put on your things!’
