Heigh Ho! Well, the season-s over!
Once again we-ve come to Lent!
Programme-s changes from balls and parties -
Now we-re ordered to repent.
Forty days of self-denial!
Tell you what, I think it pays -
Know-t-l freshen my complexion
Going slow for forty days.

No more savoury French suppers -
Such as Madame R- can give.
Well, I need a little thinning -
Just a trifle - sure-s you live!
Sometimes been afraid my plumpness
Might grow into downright fat.
Rector urges need of fasting -
Think there-s lot of truth in that.

We must meditate, he tells us,
On our several acts of sin,
And repent them. Let me see now -
Whereabouts shall I begin!
Flirting - yes, they say -tis wicked;
Well, I-m awful penitent.
(Wonder if my handsome major
Goes to early Mass though Lent?)

Love of dress! I-m guilty there too -
Guess it-s my besetting sin.
Still I-m somewhat like the lillies,
For I neither toil or spin.
Forty days I-ll wear my plainest -
Could repentance be more true?
What a saving on my dresses!
They-ll make over just like new.

Pride, and worldliness and all that,
Rector bade us pray about
Every day through Lenten season,
And I mean to be devout!
Papa always talks entrenchment -
Lent is just the very thing.
Hope he-ll get enough in pocket
So we-ll move up town next spring.