Aggressive strokes, and fierce,
But lo! the cunning of my wrist,
A moment lapsed! with art
Of subtle fencer, past my guard,
He pinked me, in the heart!
It skivered me, just like the fork,
That spoils a grilling steak,
I shivered, with a yell, and then,
A woman's cry,—and crake
Of joy from him, with mighty pang,