And so it was for that brief time—
I humbly worshiped at her throne
And vowed my perfect faith in rhyme.
But ’twas not that which made us part—
Although my verse was not the best—
We soon were cured of Cupid’s dart
And then—you well can guess the rest.
What news now will this letter bring?
It’s friendly at the start: Dear Jack,
I’m to be married in the spring,