A Henry Lawson Poem

A fresh sweet-scented beauty
Came tripping down the street;
She was as fair a vision
As you might chance to meet.
A masher raised his cady
(I don't want to be rude)
He raised it to the lady,
That fresh sweet-scented dude.

They met and talked and simpered
And giggled in the street;
They were as bright a vision
As you might wish to meet.
I don't know what they're good for,
But don't want to be rude
To the fair sweet-scented beauty
Or the well-upholstered dude.