"Truth is stranger than fiction," Holmes said to his friend.
But Watson most skeptically frowned.
"I think, Holmes, your views on this likely depend
On strange cases for which you're renowned."

"Not so," spake the sleuth, "for yon lady you see,
Who in fashion most lavish comes near,
Brings, I think you shall see, a quaint mystery
Which will make all my postulates clear."

As Watson observed, like a ship in full sail,
Mary Sutherland hove into view.
She sought Sherlock's aid, hoping he would not fail
To find news of her lost love's venue.

But, Holmes quickly observed, she was both overdressed
In a manner most garish in fashion,
"Near sighted and gullible also," he guessed.
But there was no denying her passion.

Holmes knew in an instant the truth of the plan:
That the suitor was quilty as sin;
That Windibank was a most devious man,
And Hosmer no Angel had been.

With a tone in a whisper, mock hoarseness of voice,
And dark glasses to cover his eyes,
Windibank courted Mary, made Hosmer her choice,
And she never the Truth did surmise.

Holmes' point was brought home, Watson had to confess.
T'was a sad case without legal action,
For even, Truth known, t'was no legal redress
For poor Mary's Electral attraction.

Thus stranger than fiction the Truth proved to be,
And one more Truth our duo opined:
When it comes to "affaires de coeur" plainly we see
Love is dumb, deaf, nearsighted - yea, Blind!.