Better and truer verse none ever wrote
(Despite the antique outstretched a-i-on)
Than thou, revered and magisterial Donne!
CXV
Flat on his face, La Roque, and—pressed to heart
His dexter hand—Voltaire with bended knee!
Paul sat and sucked-in triumph; just apart
Leaned over him his sister. "Well?" smirks he,
And "Well?" she answers, smiling—woman's art
To let a man's own mouth, not hers, decree