Classic Poem

S UZANNE , give me a lock of that bright hair!
Shear from the burning frame about thy face
One vital flame, one strand of living grace,
And it shall warm me until death, I swear!
Trust me, Suzanne, to handle it with care —
I have had made a cute asbestos case:
Over my heart the keepsake shall have place,
Sewed in the winter flannels that I wear.

My Twentieth Wife had all too pallid lashes,
And her thin eyebrows, too, were almost white.
I shaved them off ... some incidental gashes
Made her to moan and murmur all that night,
And with the dawn her spirit passed away ...
How fragile women are! Ah, welladay!