[LINES WROTE IN SCHOOL WHILST THROWIN’ GLANCES AT SUSAN SANDERSON]
“Oh, what is love?” the poet asks. I guess
I’dst better tell him. When a girl’s cheeks seem
As fascinatin’ to you as ice-cream,
And though snub-nosed and freckled, more or less,
She’s still the phantom of pure loveliness
That ever and anon athwart your dream