Farewell, I said, to blooming Nell,
Who is too long my passion trying,
For here is one, whose stanzas tell,
Like me, for marriage she is dying.
I am a student small and neat,
Not twenty-five, and somewhat dashing,
With active limbs and beard complete,
And wear a vest that's slightly flashing.
My brow is broad, my eye is black,
And quickly changes with my feeling,