A double limerick by Walter de la Mare:
There was a young lady of Rheims,
There was an old poet of Gizeh;
He rhymed on the deepest and sweetest of themes,
She scorned all his efforts to please her:
And he sighed, “Ah, I see,
She and sense won’t agree.”
So he scribbled her moonshine, mere moonshine, and she,
With jubilant screams, packed her trunk up in Rheims,
Cried aloud, “I am coming, O Bard of my dreams!”
And was clasped to his bosom in Gizeh.
