IF you rattle along like your Mistress’ tongue,
Your speed will outrival the dart;
But a fly for your load, you’ll break down on the road,
If your stuff be as rotten’s her heart.
by Edgar Lee MastersShe loved me. Oh! how she loved me!
I never had a chance to escape
From the day she first saw me.
But then after we were married I thought
She might prove her mortality and let me out,