Poems of Cheer/Romney

Nay, Romney, nay--I will not hear you say Those words again: "I love you, love you sweet!" You are profane--blasphemous. I repeat, You are no actor for so grand a play.

You love with all your heart? Well, that may be; Some cups are fashioned shallow. Should I try To quench my thirst from one of those, when dry - I who have had a full bowl proffered me -

A new bowl brimming with a draught divine, One single taste thrilled to the finger-tips? Think you I even care to bathe my lips With this poor sweetened water you call wine?

And though I spilled the nectar ere 'twas quaffed, And broke the bowl in wanton folly, yet I would die of my thirst ere I would wet My burning lips with any meaner draught.

So leave me, Romney. One who has seen a play Enacted by a star cannot endure To see it rendered by an amateur. You know not what Love is--now go away!