How could one expect
things to last long
in love 'twixt
a boy and a log?
Summer came
and summer was fair;
thence came winter,
the boy's hearth was bare.
Crazy with love,
cold and alone,
the boy burned the log,
to stay the harsh cold.
For days the boy wept,
unloved, unconsoled--
then again summer came,
vanquished the cold.
He once more fell in love,
he true love's song heard;
perhaps this time more prudent--
he fell in love with a bird.
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