A he-melon suffering droop
Spied a she-melon round as a hoop;
And he beamed as he said,
“Come away, let’s be wed.”
But she sighed and she said, “Canteloupe.”
A long time ago an old Squire
Met a pretty young lass in a choir
And said, “Miss, can we dance?”
But she told him, “No chance;
For I fear that I’m Handel’s miss, sire.”