From the recording Seneca Guns
As fetching as the fair sex gets
For bleary-eyed romantics’ wits,
I fancied myself quite unfit--
Too vulgar for an adult mind,
Too common for Duessa’s kind.
But I found words that made things plain
And winter in a giving vein.
I gathered what stern stuff remained--
Too thorough to leave much to fate,
Too schooled to risk my whole estate.
I might as well be blind,
So, Duessa, guide me, too.
And where I failed before,
I shall succeed with you.
I’m ill-advised and ill-equipped,
But far too real to stay tight-lipped.
Duessa drinks; I’ve only sipped.
Too thorough to leave much to chance,
Too schooled to lean on circumstance.