And hearts without gold are romantic trash;
Her love was a thing to be bought and sold,
But I couldn't purchase for want of cash.
"Now she is spouse to an aged man,
He's eighty-five and a trifle frail;
Soon he'll finish his life's brief span,
Then she'll look for another male.
Ah! but love comes not twice in our life,
Cupid for ever has passed us by;
So if she asked me to make her my wife,