And, sad to tell! it came to pass
He gave in to the little Tartar.
Love flew to Venus in a pet,
And cried, when he had told his story:
“O, Queen of Beauty, never let
That little imp wear half my glory.”
The goddess with a look sedate,
Replied, “I cannot alter fate,
But you shall conquer still, my boy,
I’ll make love’s pain more sweet than joy.”