The Star and the Garter

‘With me no arritre-pensée lends. Fall once the penny, head or tail, T care not—all the less my friends ! Faultlessly faulty! Regular In ice or fire, 'tis nullness counts. So, spring of those Parnassian founts, ‘A thousand garters heralded ‘Thy Hawless solitary star: ‘A million garters shall bested ‘The poer's turn, when, lone and far, All are dismissed: Some man, low brute, Cry “Shame, O star that would not shoot, ‘And yet went out!” But I, my dear, (Good-bye!) get neither shriek nor groan : Kiss, curse, cat’s hiss, I shall not hear, ‘My dear, for I shall be alone. im