With trifles of my own in three-time,
Till all the air was heavy with Desire,
And prostrate matrons begged me to retire.
Just then a vogue for High Romance
Prevailed, and I’d a pent-up yearning;
The hollow cheek, the hungry glance,
Betrayed the fever inly burning;
At inconvenient times the thing would out,
Especially when ladies were about.
Somehow the care of female hearts