THIS single girl is two girls: How strange such things should be! One noon eclipsed by few girls, The next no beauty she. And daily cries the lover, In voice and feature vext: "My last impression of her Is never to be the next! "She's plain: I will forget her! She's turned to fair. Ah no, Forget? -- not I! I'll pet her With kisses swift and slow." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BATTERIES OUT OF AMMUNITION by RUDYARD KIPLING EVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO ALFRED TENNYSON, MY GRANDSON by ALFRED TENNYSON MELANCHOLY by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS |