"The greater the love, the more false to it's object.
Not to be born is best for man.
Afther the kiss comes the impulse to throttle.
Break the embraces, dance while you can."
W. H. Auden (Death's Echo)
So you met him in his taxi
And his meter was running.
You went swimming on your days off
And you told him he was stunning.
You decided you would lend a hand
To tame this welfare child.
In the end, you surely got results:
They were anything but mild!
But what did you expect, Professor Higgins
From this member of the proletariat?
Did you think Eliza lurked within his being?
And did you thing---with all that sitting---
He would never grow fat?
Well, the first year was the best one
As in all the fairy tales.
And he learned his lessons perfectly...
And stayed out of the jails....
And he even learned the difference
Twixt Degas' and Renoirs
But he couldn't break a habit
Of slurping Vichyssoise.
But what did you believe, Professor Higgins?
That Rome was built in just a single day?
We all possess our special limitations.
And you, his idol, he soon found
Posess two feet of clay.
The second year went smoothly
And he'd finally learned the score.
Though he tried hard not to show it,
He'd become a wee bit bored.
He could hob-nob in society
With the crème de la crème,
But came that Fall, he longed for Paul---
And various other men.
You must have had a clue, Sherlock Higgins.
You surely don't suscribe to 'love-is-blind!'
I'm certain that you've played around
To save your peace of mind.
Yet once again you've come around to autumn.
Your daily Melodrama's 'de riguer'.
In sex you long have tended to abuse.
For his lies, you say you haven't any use.
Once monthly, you must speak of separation.
Yet who can e'er leave well-enough alone?
You're both too proud to sever your relations.
It's preferable to cut right to the bone.....
But what did you expect, Professor Higgins?
A bed of roses wasn't in your cards.
You did your best to fashion an Eliza,
But maybe---look at the result---
You tried a bit too hard?
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