Sonnets of a Chorus Girl (Sonnet 12)
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HOW slow the lonely moments seem to drag;
Since he has went I've ripped off much regret;
What if he should go out somewhere and get
Run over or accumulate a jag?
My yearnin' heart somehow begins to sag,
And nothin' that I eat appears to set
Right on my stomach; I can only let
Love well up in me till I nearly gag.
But patience, patience, oh, fond heart of mine!
The sweetest joys that swell the human breast,
They say come after longin'--to repine
And then win out is to be doubly blest;
A little while, and I'll again recline
Against the heart that bumps beneath his vest.