Love

CANST thou love me, lady?

I’ve not learn’d to woo:

Thou art on the shady

Side of sixty too.

Still I love thee dearly!

Thou hast lands and pelf:

But I love thee merely,

Merely for thyself.

Will you love me, fairest?

Though thou art not fair;

And I think thou wearest

Someone-else’s hair.

Thou could’st love, though, dearly:

And, as I am told,

Thou art very nearly

Worth thy weight in gold.

Dost thou love me, sweet one?

Tell me that thou dost!

Women fairly beat one,

But I think thou must.

Thou art loved so dearly:

I am plain, but then

Thou (to speak sincerely)

Art as plain again.

Love me, bashful fairy!

I’ve an empty purse:

And I’ve “moods,” which vary;

Mostly for the worst.

Still I love thee dearly:

Though I make (I feel)

Love a little queerly,

I’m as true as steel.

Love me, swear to love me

(As, you know, they do)

By yon heaven above me

And its changeless blue.

Love me, lady, dearly,

If you’ll be so good;

Though I don’t see clearly

On what ground you should.

Love me—ah! or love me

Not, but be my bride!

Do not simply shove me

(So to speak) aside!

P’raps it would be dearly

Purchased at the price;

But a hundred yearly

Would be very nice.

Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD