Bruce, I can't believe she married you after that! No, it's very funny. Another poem that mixes tet and trim even more skillfully than Tennyson's to my ear, is To Anne Gregory.
Never shall a young man
thrown into despair
by those great honey-coloured
ramparts at your ear
love you for yourself alone
and not your yellow hair.
"But I can get a hair-dye
and set such colour there,
brown or black or carrot,
that young men in despair
can love me for myself alone
and not my yellow hair."
I heard an old religious man
but yesternight declare
that he had found a text to prove
that only God, my dear,
could love you for yourself alone
and not your yellow hair.
'Pologize if I'm mispunctuating. Memory, y'know.
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