Classic Poem

Puck, a-sitting on a hill,
Spied two lovers by the rill,
Doing things that lovers do
When their love is fond and true;
Just a pressure of the hand,
Flash of eyes — you understand.
Glancing toward the couple, he
Cried, " What Fools these Mortals be! "

Later on he spied a pair —
Strephon strong, and Phyllis fair;
Deep affection in each heart,
Yet their ways ran far apart.
He'd no courage for the test.
She deemed coldness for the best.
Puck observed, impatiently:
" O what Fools these Mortals be! "

I don't know what can be done
For to please this jeering one.
If we do or if we don't;
If we will or if we won't;
Spite of how we play the game
Still the verdict is the same.
Hard to such a Fate to bow —
Guess we're all Fools anyhow!