The Blunder, Forgive the Shakespearian nature of it. Options

[*CrackedRearView*]

What an utter Utopian connection,
What gleeful, joyous bliss,
What innocent affection,
In the minds of two amiss.
What tragic, punch drunk love,
What a doeful, kiddish heart,
What dew-bombing God's above,
That allows this adieu, and part?
What amazing facial features,
What amazing dovelike grace,
What prototype of creatures,
With a fragile, porcelain face.
What tears drop on my scribe,
What anguish smears my ink,
What woman so tremors the vibe,
And disallows me to think?
What amber golden hair,
What irresistable spark,
What lady, pure and fair,
Have I left in the dark?
Oh woe, upon me fall,
For I have made a blunder,
I've given up my doll,
So smite me with thy thunder.