Lay away the story,-- Though the theme is sweet, There's a lack of something yet, Leaves it incomplete:-- There's a nameless yearning-- Strangely undefined-- For a story sweeter still Than the written kind.
Therefore read no longer-- I've no heart to hear But just something you make up, O my mother dear.-- With your arms around me, Hold me, folded-eyed,-- Only let your voice go on-- I'll be satisfied.