To strike Priscilla’s heart.
Clean through it went, no heart was there;
Said Cupid, “I believe
Priscilla’s just the girl to wear
Her heart upon her sleeve.”
But there, alack! it was not found;
“Aha!” cried Cupid, “note
Her frightened air; now I’ll be bound
Her heart is in her throat.”
Failure again. On slender chance