by Edgar Albert Guest
The hours were long with you away,
Although I thought I could forget;
I banished you and cursed the day
That we had ever met.
I frowned upon you, and I vowed
That nevermore your charms I 'd seek;
I sought new pleasures with the crowd,
But I am weak.
Temptress I called you, and I swore
No longer your demands I 'd serve;
Freedom I 'd own forevermore,
But lost my nerve.
And absent, all my love returned,
Not for one moment was I free,
For you I nightly, daily yearned;
Your slave I 'd be.
No charm in anything I found,
No lustre in the skies of blue,
I merely moped my way around,
And sighed for you.
I must be made of fragile clay,
Unsuited for the hero type,
For back to you I come today,
Old briar pipe.
Last updated January 14, 2019