What fires of blind fatality may catch them!
Say, you do love a woman—do adore her—
You may embalm the memory of her worth
And chronicle her beauty to all time,
In words whereat great Jove himself might flush,
And feel Olympus tremble at his thoughts;
Yet where is your security? Some clerk
Wanting a foolscap, or some boy a kite,
Some housewife fuel, or some sportsman wadding
To wrap a ball (which hits the poet's brain