Classic Poem

Woman of mine, I have sought you long,
Through forest and field and fen;
I come my way with the Stone Age throng,
Besting the best of its men.
Alone, I conquer the dinosaur,
The hydrosaurus I train;
And yet it is you and the thought of you
That troubles my heart and brain.

Woman of mine, I have wandered through
Silurian silt, waist deep;
I have forced my way to all—but you,
But ever your distance you keep.
I have laid my kill where I knew you crept
When the night had smothered the sun,
So you might eat of the game in peace—
This have I gladly done.

I have cut in the hardening clay, your name;
I have sung, in my raucous tones
Of your wondrous eyes that make me tame,—
While scraping diplodocus bones!
But now—I have gathered the last trilobite
To lay at your bare brown feet!
You notice me not, in your haughty way—
With laughter my offerings greet.

So, woman of mine, no more do I try
To win you with manners polite;
No more will you hear my lover-like cry
Disturbing the Neolith night!
For this is my Palaeozoic vow,
Sworn, as my shaking knees rub:
To-morrow I banish all civilized ways
And woo you, my dear,—with a club!