Chloe, you shun me like a hind <br />That, seeking vainly for her mother, <br />Hears danger in each breath of wind, <br />And wildly darts this way and t' other; <br /> <br />Whether the breezes sway the wood <br />Or lizards scuttle through the brambles, <br />She starts, and off, as though pursued, <br />The foolish, frightened creature scrambles. <br /> <br />But, Chloe, you're no infant thing <br />That should esteem a man an ogre; <br />Let go your mother's apron-string, <br />And pin your faith upon a toga!<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-chloe-2/
