Because my love is quick to come and go-- A little here, and then a little there-- What use are any words of mine to swear My heart is stubborn, and my spirit slow Of weathering the drip and drive of woe? What is my oath, when you have but to bare My little, easy loves; and I can dare Only to shrug, and answer, "They are so"? You do not know how heavy a heart it is That hangs about my neck--a clumsy stone Cut with a birth, a death, a bridal-day. Each time I love, I find it still my own, Who take it, now to that lad, now to this, Seeking to give the wretched thing away. PART TWO _Portrait of the Artist_ Oh, lead me to a quiet cell Where never footfall rankles, And bar the window passing well, And gyve my wrists and ankles. Oh, wrap my eyes with linen fair, With hempen cord go bind me, And, of your mercy, leave me there, Nor tell them where to find me. Oh, lock the portal as you go, And see its bolts be double.... Come back in half an hour or so, And I will be in trouble. _Chant for Dark Hours_ Some men, some men Cannot pass a Book shop. (Lady, make your mind up, and wait your life away.) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Crap game. (He said he'd come at moonrise, and here's another day!) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Bar-room. (Wait about, and hang about, and that's the way it goes.) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Woman. (Heaven never send me another one of those!) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Golf course. (Read a book, and sew a seam, and slumber if you can.) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Haberdasher's. (All your life you wait around for some damn man!) _Unfortunate Coincidence_ By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying-- Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying. _Verse Reporting Late Arrival at a Conclusion_ Consider a lady gone reckless in love, In novels and plays: You watch her proceed in a drapery of A roseate haze. Acclaimed as a riot, a wow, and a scream, She flies with her beau to les Alpes Maritimes, And moves in a mist of a mutual dream The rest of her days. In life, if you'll listen to one who has been Observant of such, A lady in love is more frequently in Decidedly Dutch. The thorn, so to say, is revealed by the rose. The best that she gets is a sock in the nose. These authors and playwrights, I'm forced to suppose, Don't get around much. _Inventory_ Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.