I merit it more than my girlish rival;
I pray thee now grant my request, and place
That rose upon my forehead, not on hers;
Then will I serve thee all my after-days
As thy poor handmaid, as thy humblest slave,
Happy to kiss the dust beneath thy tread,
To kneel submissive in thy lordly presence.
Oh! turn thine eyes from her and look on me
As I kneel here imploring at thy feet,
Supremely blest if but a single glance