Us Potes
Swift was sweet on Stella;
Poe had his Lenore;
Burns’ fancy turned to Nancy
And a dozen more.
Poe was quite a trifler;
Goldsmith was a case;
Byron’d flirt with any skirt
From Liverpool to Thrace.
Sheridan philandered;
Shelley, Keats, and Moore
All were there with some affair
Far from lit’rachoor.
Fickle is the heart of
Each immortal bard.
Mine alone is made of stone–
Gotta work too hard.
Autres oeuvres par Franklin Pierce Adams...
