Sonnet 3

I travelled to a distant land and saw
A man who was the kindest of them all.
He took us in, bed and board, we, like poor
Thieves who stab and steal and have such gall.
Now, the season gave us young hellebore --
To me! A man who really does appall.
We were driven to the golden Bude shore
Whilst I fretted about the testing hall.

Yet all I cared for was this girl; buxom,
Simple, good hips, young, plumpish; yes, this Miss,
I fancy she'd like a man more handsome:
Anything but a vulgar man like this.
As she spoke of buses from Hatherleigh
And I wanted her to belong to me.