Love's sweetest oaths, and tears, and sighs
All potent spells her heart to gain
The ardent lover vainly tries:
Fruitless his arts to make her waver,
She will not grant the smallest favour:
A ruse our youth resolved to try
The cruel air to mollify:—
Holding his fingers ten outspread
To Perrette's gaze, and with no dread
“So often,” said he, “can I prove,