The Protean Maiden

                (Song)

This single girl is two girls:
   How strange such things should be!
One noon eclipsed by few girls,
   The next no beauty she.

And daily cries the lover,
   In voice and feature vext:
'My last impression of her
   Is never to be the next!

'She's plain: I will forget her!
   She's turned to fair. Ah no,
Forget?—not I!    I'll pet her
   With kisses swift and slow.'