I Am Waylaid By Beauty.

She Is Happy Where She Lies With The Dust Upon Her Eyes.

Catch From The Board Of Beauty/ Such Careless Crumbs As Fall.

And What Are You That, Missing You, I Should Be Kept Awake As Many Nights As There Are Days With Weeping For Your Sake? And What Are You That, Missing You, As Many Days As Crawl I Should Be Listening To The Wind And Looking At The Wall? I Know A Man That’s A Braver Man And Twenty Men As Kind, And What Are You, That You Should Be The One Man In My Mind? Yet Women’s Ways Are Witless Ways, As Any Sage Will Tell,— And What Am I, That I Should Love So Wisely And So Well?

But She Was Not Made For Any Man, And She Will Never Be All Mine.

What Should I Be But Just What I Am?