I Run with the Fox

e Spencerian hand
A letter would come. The words were grand
And the style heroic. In dark green ink
Uncle Reg would say, "I think
You the fairest lady this side of the sea
Who wears her birthdays with gaiety.
You have my wishes for scores and scores."
And the letters were signed "Admiringly, Yours."

There'd come a bottle of fine liqueur
At Christmas. A gift was always the best
With a label. He thought it a very test
Of friendship. You thought a person was dear and fine
So you gave him your choicest, rarest wine!

He was at his best when the lights were high
And laughter gleamed in the dancer's eye;
He never would ask for your hand outright,
But would seek your partner, and there in sight
Would ask permission to squire you round
In a waltz; he was light as a blowing feather!
His conversation was always whether
The party was fun for you. Compliments came to his lips more swift Than the dancing music's whirling lift.

He w