The half-forgotten time when he,
A boy of nine, had worshipped vainly
A governess of forty-three!
"My boy," he said, in tone consoling,
"Give up this idle fancy—do—
The song you heard my daughter trolling
Did not, indeed, refer to you.
"I feel for you, poor boy, acutely;
I would not wish to give you pain;
Your pangs I estimate minutely,—