With a Locket

What can I send to a sweet little sister
Kisses, on paper, are lukewarm stuff—
She knows, too well, how much I have missed her
To tell it again would be stupid enough.
Love, I have long ago sent to my sister
There's little left over. Isn't it rough.

Let me then think of a gift to my sister
I've a notion she wouldn't like cheroots,
Black & knotty, her face to blister
And a gentleman's saddle scarcely suits
The figure and style of a female sister
Any more than Manilla cheroots

Would she care for an army revolve my sister—
Bore 450, weight not small,
Many a time have its bullets missed a
Six inch mark on the stable wall
'Tis an unsafe gift to give to a sister
Who shuts her eyes when she fires at all.

Would she care for a grass-green parrot my sister?
Hundreds harry our gardens now,
Plucking our loquats just as they list, a
Band of Brigands whose fort is the bough—
I am rather afraid one would reach my sister
As the French of the school says:—Tray no gow.

Io triumphe! Eureka, my sister
Bueno! Bahut accha! ver guten! tres bon(g)
I will send Trinchinopoly gold to my sister
And finish my terribly tedious song
A goddess in gold shall be sent to my sister
May she think of her 'Brer' and be pleased with it long.