Classic Poem

" Confound all magic!" thought the gay young knight,
And felt inclined to hurl into the ocean
This gem delusive. " Surely I have right
To know a thing or two about devotion.
At sultry noon and by the weird moonlight
She loves to look on me. The tidal motion
Is not more true to our attendant planet.
Confound all magic! I'm not made of granite."