THE HOST

Between the two perplexed I go,

A shuttlecock, tossed to and fro.

I gaze on one, and know that she

Is all that womankind can be;

I seek the other, and she seems

The perfect idol of my dreams;

And so between the charming pair

My heart is ever in the air.

And yet, although it be my fate

To hover indeterminate,

I rest content, nor ask for more

Than this sweet game of battledore.