That’s easier — than Braid the Hair —
And make the Bodice gay —
When eyes that fondled it are wrenched
By Decalogues — away —
Of Course — I prayed —
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird — had stamped her foot —
And cried “Give Me” —
My Reason — Life —
I had not had — but for Yourself —
‘Twere better Charity
To leave me in the Atom’s Tomb —
Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb —
Than this smart Misery.
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‘Twasn’t far -the door was near-
‘Twasn’t dark -for He went- too
‘Twasn’t loud, for He said nought
That was all I cared to know.
Day knocked -and we must part-
Neither -was strongest- now
He strove -and I strove- too
We didn’t do it -tho’!