I Was Last In Rome

If I Were A Girl, I'd Despair. The Supply Of Good Women Far Exceeds That Of The Men Who Deserve Them.

Lovers To-day And For All Time Preserve The Meaning Of My Rhyme: Love Is Not Kindly Nor Yet Grim But Does To You As You To Him.

For I Now Realize That What Overcame Me That Evening Was A Sudden Awareness Of The Power Of Intuition, The Supra-logic That Cuts Out All Routine Processes Of Thought And Leaps Straight From Problem To Answer.

Love At First Sight'some Say Misnaming Discovery Of Twinned Helplessness Against The Huge Tug Of Procreation. But Friendship At First Sight? This Also Catches Fiercely At The Surprised Heart So That The Cheek Blanches Then Blushes.

The Sap Of Spring In The Young Wood A-stir Will Celebrate With Green The Mother, And Every Song-bird Shout Awhile For Her; But We Are Gifted, Even In November Rawest Of Seasons, With So Huge A Sense Of Her Nakedly Worn Magnificence We Forget Cruelty And Past Betrayal, Heedless Of Where The Next Bright Bolt May Fall.