Bedecked in fashion trim, <br />With every curl a-quiver; <br />Or leaping, light of limb, <br />O'er rivulet and river; <br />Or skipping o'er the lea <br />On daffodil and daisy; <br />Or stretched beneath a tree, <br />All languishing and lazy; <br />Whatever be her mood - <br />Be she demurely prude <br />Or languishingly lazy - <br />My lady drives me crazy! <br />In vain her heart is wooed, <br />Whatever be her mood! <br /> <br />What profit should I gain <br />Suppose she loved me dearly? <br />Her coldness turns my brain <br />To VERGE of madness merely. <br />Her kiss - though, Heaven knows, <br />To dream of it were treason - <br />Would tend, as I suppose, <br />To utter loss of reason! <br />My state is not amiss; <br />I would not have a kiss <br />Which, in or out of season, <br />Might tend to loss of reason: <br />What profit in such bliss? <br />A fig for such a kiss!<br /><br />William Schwenck Gilbert<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-lady-4/
