But I fancied, in my jealousy, I was probably her suitor.
It might have been a relative; but was it not a shame
That I couldn't breathe my sentiments to Little What's-her-
name?
I should like to make a tender of my heart and of my hand,
(For it strikes me that at present I have nothing else to proffer;)
But since I 've neither intellect nor money at command,
She would probably insult me by declining such an offer.
It's not so much the intellect—if Fortune, fickle dame,
Would grant me only opulence and Little What 's-her-name.