Reading Time: < 1 minute

Poem

In his early days he was quite surprised
When she told him she was compromised
By meetings and lingerings at his whim,
And thinking not of herself but him;
While she lifted orbs aggrieved and round
That scandal should so soon abound,
(As she had raised them to nine or ten
Of antecedent nice young men):
And in remorse he thought with a sigh,
How good she is, and how bad am I! –
It was years before he understood
That she was the wicked one – he the good.

Previous Poem
The Sun On The Bookcase
Next Poem
The Temporary The All