Poem by Ellis Parker Butler

An Exception

In all romances, old and new,
   And in all lover's rhymes
I find one rule that has held true
   Since prehistoric times.

The lover must, if he indeed
   Be hit by Cupid's 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.

1. Song for Heroes
2. A Scotchman Whose Name Was Isbister
3. A Satisfactory Reform
4. The Rich Boy’s Christmas
5. The Water Nymphs

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