The civil way you’ve got;
For me you’re something too polite—
Justine, you love me not!
I know, Justine, you never scold
At aught that I may do:
If I am passionate or cold,
’Tis all the same to you.
“A charming temper,” say the men,
“To smooth a husband’s lot”:
I wish ’twere ruffled now and then—