Jacks From Jack

Fresh, fragrant, tempting, balmy, red—
What fool would send them back?
Why do I wish that I were dead,
With all these jacks from Jack?

Why do I bite my lips and frown,
Tear buttons off my sacque,
When, just returning to the town,
I get these jacks from Jack?

Alas, for pleasure’s giddy whirl,
For summer lost, alack!
He’s off to see some other girl;
That’s why mere jacks from Jack.