I feel my heart within my bosom beating, So strong within me is the dread and fear, Whenever I come face to face with her, Lest she should be offended by our meeting. Struck dumb am I, without a word of greeting, And so alarmed that I might faint away, I think myself most lucky, I must say, If I don’t topple over while retreating. But as I stumble on like one possessed, All those who see me marvel at the sight And cry: “He’s lost his wits, the crazy clown!” I curse them not, I think restraint is best, For reason certainly would say they’re right, And now and then, it’s true, I tumble down.