To him who cavils that his love
Is chained to this deadly ax
Let me eulogize what's to be gained,
So he can just relax.
Her lips that strain for painful hours
In that ungodly pucker
Are
all the hungrier for delight,
For Weltschmerz to give succor.
Though beauty never tamed this beast
Nor converted it to splender,
A lady who works very hard
Will after hours be tender.
She might even land a decent job
And assuage his worldly needs,
Or perform the noblest act of love
And keep him in good reeds.