|ELCore.Net > Poetry > Catholic Poets > Poems of Ernest Dowson|
|To a Lady asking Foolish Questions|
Why am I sorry, Chloe? Because the moon is far:|
And who am I to be straitened in a little earthly star?
Because thy face is fair? And what if it had not been,|
The fairest face of all is the face I have not seen.
Because the land is cold, and however I scheme and plot,|
I can not find a ferry to the land where I am not.
Because thy lips are red and thy breasts upbraid the snow?|
(There is neither white nor red in the pleasance where I go.)
Because thy lips grow pale and thy breasts grow dun and fall?|
I go where the wind blows, Chloe, and am not sorry at all.
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Lane Core Jr. (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Created November 13, 2002; not revised.