Pride designed a precious bower
Granting each discarded scrap
The illusion of creative power

Whatever’s found he will devour
And shape to his mind’s map
Pride designed a precious bower

Now his lover he will shower
With refuse in a shiny wrap:
The illusion of creative power

Is she wooed by his false flower?
Will glamour be her trap?
Pride designed a precious bower

Or will her feelings remain dour?
Knowing he can only tap
The illusion of creative power

Leaving him to hunt and scour
The world for his stopgap
Pride designed a precious bower
The illusion of creative power