LINES COMPOSED AFTER SEEIN’ A BOOK FULL OF BYRON'S LOVE LETTERS

One reason why I'm‘ most afraid to get

So famous like we poets always do,

Is that they'll print my spoony letters, too,

As is the way with all of us who let

Our fancies caper. Hadst I thought whilst yet

Unknown, I'dst be a poet, quite a few

Endearin’ words with which I soughtst to woo

More girls than one I'dst not have wrote, you bet!

If Susan Sanderson shouldst find I sent

The valentine I saidst I wrote for her

To Jane Jones, too, the thirty cents I've spent

For soda water's wasted, I'dst infer:

Why must we poets do things we'll repent?

And oh! why thus didst me and Byron err?