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TO VENUS IN THE ASHMOLEAN.
Dear Goddess, in your quiet eyes
I long have seen the dumb reproof,
But surely charity denies
That you should longer hold aloof.
Dear Goddess, freely I confess—
Great pardon, of your graciousness.
The Confession
An argument arose between usTouching the perfect waist of Venus.
My friend (a very subtle Scot)
Said Thirty-three. I'm sure it's not
Was my retort. As I'm alive
I'll guarantee it's thirty-five.
Base men had let the matter rest—
But we—we put it to the test.
We took a measured length of twine
And came within the sacred shrine.
The Goddess stood, unrobed and stately—
Her purity abashed us greatly—
