VIII
Or else I find her with her Pen in Hand,
Grinding out Quatrains which mayhap are Grand,
She tries to make me Listen: Rest assured
That I obey Not any such Command.
IX
Had I but known just what my Fate would be,
Inside a Drawer to which I hold the Key,
That Book forever would have Disappeared
And thereby would have gained some Peace for Me.
X
But ah, the Irony of Fate—that's how
"A Book of verses underneath the Bough"
Is what I hear from Morn to Dewy Eve.
A Wilderness were Paradise just Now.