It wasn’t mine, although I gave it.
The gem that in my breast I wore,
That once belonged unto your mother
Which, when you gave to me, I swore
For life I’d love you, and no other.
Can you forget that cheerful morn,
When in my breast thou first didst stick it?—
I can’t restore it—it’s in pawn;
But, base deceiver—that’s the ticket.
Oh, take back all, I cannot bear