My poor 'motor-centres' are all out of gear,
And I can't even 'chuck' your soft chin, sweet, I fear.
I'm sure such a stolid inflexible 'stick' you'll hate,
But, though I adore you, I cannot gesticulate—"
"My case is as bad," sighed the Sphinx to the Stick,
"For I cannot 'bridle'—no more than a brick."
Said the Stick to the Sphinx, "Ah, we once knew what love meant!
But, thanks to the loss of 'emotional movement,'
We can't give it 'graceful and chastened expression,'
And so it seems slipping fast out of possession.