When first, fair Miss, thou greeted me,
My blood more timid than a flea,
I could not think nor sleep, nor eat,
But rested on my cycle's seat
Reliving every tone of thine,
And contemplating bliss divine!
Then, fairest miss, thou nearer drew!
And soon my blood more firéd grew
'Til what was once of little worth
Swells like an orange in its girth!
And every ounce of blood in me,
Demands you set my daemon free.
Now, having started such a change,
Your manner, lady, grows most strange;
No longer do you blithely toy,
But cold are turnéd and most coy!
Until my swelling lower brain,
Defeated, is a flea again!!