Classic Poem

The Head fell in love one day,
As young heads will oftentimes do;
What it felt I cannot say:
That is nothing to me nor to you:
But this much I know,
It made a great show
And told every friend it came near
If its idol should rove
It could ne'er again love,
No being on earth was so dear.

So Time, the fleet-footed, moved on,
And the Head knew not what to believe;
A whole fortnight its Love had been gone,
And it felt no desire to grieve.
Its passion so hot
In a month was forgot;
And in six weeks no trace could be found;
While, in two months, the Head,
Which should then have been dead,
For another was looking around.

The Heart fell in love one day:
The mischief was very soon done!
It tried all it could to be gay;
But loving, it found, was not fun.
For hours it would sit
In a moping fit,
And could only throb lively and free
When that one was near
Which it felt was so dear,
And when that one was absent--Ah, me!

So the days and the nights hurried on;
And the Heart nursed in silence its thought:
To a distance its idol had gone,
Then it felt how completely 'twas caught:
Other hearts came to sue:
To the absent 'twas true--
Loving better the longer apart:
Thus while Love in the head
Is very soon dead,
It is deathless when once in the heart.