They make me ill; they decompose
My vital essence at its fount
(Excepting Barrie's Mary Rose,
But then, of course, he doesn't count).
Give me the life that quick men lead,
Of which I know the hopes and fears
Better than those of shadier spheres;
And, if at first you don't succeed,
If you should hear the critics croak,
"As to your heroine's choice, you err,"