Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing; Wed or cease to woo.
Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.
His faithful dog salutes the smiling guest.
For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.
What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.