To Miss B

1

Odd rot it what a shame it is
 That love should puzzles grow
That we the one we seek should miss
 And change from top to toe
  The Gilafers a Gilafer
And nature owns the plan
And strange a thing it is to me
A man cant be a man

2

I traced the woods and mountains brow
And felt as feels a man
Love pleased me then that puzzles now
 E'en do the best I can
Nature her same green mantle spread
 And boundless is her span
The same bright sun is o'er my head
 But I can't be a man

3

The turf is green and fair the sky
And nature still divine
And summot lovely fills my eye
Just like this love of mine
And though I love—it may not be
For do the best I can
Mong such disordered company
I cannot be a man

4

Th[r]ough married ties—affections ties
And all the ties of love
I struggled to be just and wise
But just I cannot prove
The Bible says that God is love
I like so wise a plan
But was it ordered from above
That love was [not] wi' man

5

This contradiction puzzles me
And it may puzzle all
Was Adam thus fore doomed to be
Our misery by his fall
Eves fall has been a fall to me
And do the best I can
Woman—I neither love nor see
And cannot be a man
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.