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.
Wilt thou 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 worse.
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 do n'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.