Twisted into shapes so ghastly,
Frightful, grim, disconsolate;
Writhing in a moveless torture.
Passion inarticulate.
Call it "love of what is lovely,"
"Choice of best in nature's grace,"
Back of all the giddy tangle
Lurks the tradesman's wily face,
E.G.
[Transcriber Note: Although two unique copies of this volume are stored at The Internet Archive and both of them list an Index at Page 151, neither one of them has an Index and both end at Page 150.]
Transcriber Note
In order to prevent images from splitting paragraphs, text was reformatted. Minor typos may have been corrected.