O God, Your Only Jig-maker

O to see him, whom I should have forgot
Dressed in antique fashion, willy-nilly
Rush from library to boat to school, not
Bothered with profit or loss. So silly
And reckless and willful and for all that
Exquisitely endearing. How I thought
To obtain that eternal resquiat
Of the mind's blank slate, and the heart uncaught
In the tangled net of cruel desire
And for all it matters, could be the case.
But never will love cease to inspire
The pointless wish to see again the race:
Rushing from library to boat to school,
My long lost darling love, God's favorite fool.