Painted with virtue And apparelled in justice, From her haughty haven She would woo the world. She would woo the world to win, But dirty men detest clean hands Which serve them Care in capsule form And caress with cosmetic compassion. As pennies pour from her pious purse, She buys the courage to face herself; But weary men rich dames do curse And her who would woo the world. Who then would woo the world? Why the one who would condescend; The one who would lose a self to feel, To live and to die with mankind.