The Fear I Phobe

[kerr_avon]

Orac, I cannot mind my probe;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry.
Oh! if you felt the fear I phobe!
But oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt I'm bound;
All other men may use deceit:
He always said my eyes were brown,
And often swore my lips were sweet.



Who Ever Felt as I
by Walter Savage Landor

Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry.
Oh! if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I?

No longer could I doubt him true;
All other men may use deceit:
He always said my eyes were blue
And often swore my lips were sweet.