There counting the kisses, the sweet stolen blisses,
Of Strephon and Phyllis in languorous ease.
We trifle and putter, our hearts in a flutter,
In a tangled skein spun by the toiletted fair,
The weary hours whiling, and dull care beguiling—
Lo! dimpled and smiling, you’re loitering there!
O wary elf Cupid, O cunning, coy Cupid,
Are lovers all stupid, dear, rollicking boy?
While maidens are sighing and love-knots are tying,
The snap of your bow-string bodes sorrow and joy!