Though she's an angel,—vastly stupid!
But that's a freak of Master Cupid,
(To whom, of course, you constant pray,
And offer vows both night and day).
He makes too free in hapless hour,
And from that moment's in your power.
To keep your countenance endeavour,
Lift up your hands, cry "Well, I never!
In all my life knew such assurance;
This cruelty is past endurance."