No, I have never feard that age
Your generous heart would disengage
From one you long had valued, one
To every other cold as stone,
But warm to you, and you alone.
I loved your beauty for your sake,
My share of pleasure proud to take
When younger men your worth could prize,
And read their fortunes in your eyes.
But I am jealous now at last..
O that your wicked girl should cast
Her teacher off, and take another
To help her forward past her brother,
Distrusting.. me, shame! shame!.. in latin..
The only thing that I am pat in.
I know what girls are, eight years old,
And she would laugh if I should scold.