In all romances, old and new,
And in all lovers rhymes
I find one rule that has held true
Since prehistoric times.
The lover must, if he indeed
Be hit by Cupids dart,
Grow pale, sigh much, neglect his food,
And wholly lose his heart.
Now fain would I abide this rule
But I, forsooth, grow red
And hot, and stammer like a fool,
And only lose my head.
An Exception
Ellis Parker Butler
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