In Kilburn I walked down the street.
What you did! What you said!
Thumb-tack through a billet-doux —
that note on your door made an end!
And more than that — no more amor.
Too much wish made too much whim,
my theory of love’s mistake. So:
at last you upped and went.
Again I see my smiling snap
you’d hidden on the sly.
Jumping Jack, I’d hopped all your hints,
till: “I love you — goodbye!”