There! I've touched up the lightning, and now I am ready!
But, though I must look bright, expectant, and steady,
I don't feel percisely in clover!
[Left waiting for patronage.
THE DECADENT LOVER OF FICTION.
"One love, one life," was my ancient manner,
For introspection I had no brain,
But I would have died beneath her banner,
Or I would have lived, her grace to gain.