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Enough Says the "Soul"
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Visions Enough you, with this silly whining.
What you see's lost, write off as so!
But, not long ago, the sun was shining
And loved as no boy will ever know;
She led the way, I went dancin' after,
Replete were amorous days, thereafter.
When I hotly lusted she always bowed
So that my wild oats should be sewed.
But she's now cold, is too removed.
Reach instead for this witty forebode:
You were desperate and blind,
You were lonely, feeble of mind.
Hound for her not like dogs for a bone,
Like a scoundrel mutt from the pen,
But to merely forget and bemoan
That her you met, again and again.
And mark her as object unknown
In your thoughts as I will in mine.
And get thee again to thine throne,
Search thee there for femme divine.
