My envy of that man
Withstood the years
Until one day I met a Dane
Who'd talked with Henrik Ibsen:
This man, with head bowed to the wind,
Was walking up a Stockholm way
When 'round the corner came the seer,
And he plumped into him.
And that great mind
Whose thinking moved the world
Surveyed my friend
Through his big eyes
And slowly spoke:
"Since when have codfish come to land?"

With all the awe
One has for those who've known the great,
These two I've envied
Until the other day
When blundering 'round behind the scenes
I stepped upon Pavlowa's toe.