Bethany Hagen here, and today's Cupid's Arrow comes from Stephanie over at Chasm of Books, and she has dared a Valentine to profess their love of literary heartthrobs with an epic poem in the style of Beowulf. I consider Edward Rochester my first boyfriend, so this arrow was a good fit for me. Here follows an abridged (and hackneyed) attempt at Anglo-Saxon poetry.
Listen! The handsome men of book-pages call to us
with their knotted cravats and tight breeches.
We have heard of them, of the Fitzwilliams and Maxims,
The Heathcliffs and the Rhetts!
Their prowess in wooing goes unchallenged,
their square jaws and stern brows have
felled movie theaters full of women.
And how the avid readers swooned
when the marrying-question was asked,
at long long last. How the pages were turned
when the kissy-face happened freaking finally.
Lo, these men have only walked Midgard
within the bounds of books, but yet
such male glory still beckons like the rosy-fingered dawn,
(which is also the color of Bingley's hair.)