A dreadful question is it, when we love,
To ask if love's return'd! I did believe
Fair Julia's heart was mine—I doubt it now.
But once last night she danced with me, her hand
To this gallant and that engaged, as soon
As asked for! Maid that loved would scarce do this!
Nor visit we together as we used,
When first she came to town. She loves me less
Than once she did—or loves me not at all.
Misfortune liketh company: it seldom