What Herrick found—what Nancy knew—
Whose motor raced the county through—
What could that harsh Policeman do—
You never failed to argue;
Of moonlight, murders, lovers, threats,
Vengeance and kisses, siren's nets,
And pale, dark men with cigarettes,
Not once I found you weary!
Through broken music, sudden light
In the deep darkness, jewels bright,
Persons unknown in unknown plight,
You still sought unknown persons;
Authors, if you would straightway know
Where faith and cheer and counsel grow,
Suggestions flourish and hints flow:
Go ask my Nancy Cornish!
