When I saw Gretchen in the garden and then went to my room and gazed upon the likeness of Phyllis, I was much like the bachelor Heine tells about--I doddered.
The red squirrel in the branches above me looked wisely.

He was wondering how long before the green burrs would parch and give him their brown chestnuts.

I was contemplating a metaphysical burr.

I wanted to remain true to Phyllis, though there wasn't any sense in my doing so.

Had Gretchen resembled any one but Phyllis I never should have been in such a predicament.