Modern Love XXVII: Distraction is the Panacea

 Distraction is the panacea, Sir! 
I hear my oracle of Medicine say.
 
Doctor! that same specific yesterday 
I tried, and the result will not deter 
A second trial.
 Is the devil's line 
Of golden hair, or raven black, composed? 
And does a cheek, like any sea-shell rosed, 
Or clear as widowed sky, seem most divine? 
No matter, so I taste forgetfulness.
 
And if the devil snare me, body and mind, 
Here gratefully I score:--he seemèd kind, 
When not a soul would comfort my distress! 
O sweet new world, in which I rise new made! 
O Lady, once I gave love: now I take! 
Lady, I must be flattered.
 Shouldst thou wake 
The passion of a demon, be not afraid.

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