Dilemma

If I were mild, and I were sweet

And laid my heart before your feet

And took my dearest thoughts to you

And hailed your easy lies as true

Were I to murmur "Yes," and then

"How true, my dear," and "Yes," again

And wear my eyes discreetly down

And tremble whitely at your frown

And keep my words unquestioning

My love, you'd run like anything!



Should I be frail, and I be mad

And share my heart with every lad

But beat my head against the floor

What times you wandered past my door

Were I to doubt, and I to sneer

And shriek "Farewell!" and still be here

And break your joy, and quench your trust

I should not see you for the dust!