An owl went out one night on pleasure
Bent, to wit, to woo.
This is a thing that owls as well
As we are wont to do.
A lady owl he met that night
And wooed her in the rain,
And then this owl, this amorous fowl,
No more went home again.
At first this owl, she thought him foul
In spite of all he could do
To win her smiles, until his guiles
At last did see him through.
He wooed, and won, and wed, and went
Away, and now there's two.
His only comment I will write:
It's this: "Too-wit too-woo!"