Classic Poem

Why not a poem as they treat
The stories in the magazines?
“Eustacia's lips were very sweet.
He stooped to”—and here intervenes
A line—italics—telling one
Where one may learn the things that he,
The noble hero, had begun.

Page 3—oh, here it is—no, here—
“Kiss them. Eustacia hung her head;
Whereat he said, ‘Eustacia dear’—
And sweetly low Eustacia said:”

Here, just between the corset ad.
And that of Smithers' Canderine.
(Eustacia sweet, you drive me mad.)

“No, no, not that! But let me tell
You why I scorn your ardent kiss—
Not that I do not love you well;”
No, Archibald, the reason's this:

Turn, turn my leaves, and let me learn
Eustacia's fate; I pine for more;
Oh, turn and turn and turn and turn!

“Because—and yet I ought not say
The wherefore of my sudden whim.”
Here Archibald looked at Eusta
Cia, and Eustacia looked at him.
“Because,” continued she, “my head—”
I never knew Eustacia's fate,
I never knew what 'Stacia said.