Because we have too little of it, you
Because you have too much. All girls are prone,
Young girls, to deem their own love great and grand;
But you, my child, find yours a very monster!
It taxes all your powers to get it food;
Yet nothing does unless to tramp on you.
Now tell me, think you God it is, or man,
Who makes our earthly love so troublesome?”
“Why, man,” I said, “of course.”
“Of course,” he said;