Canst thou love me, lady?
                  I've not learn'd to woo:
              Thou art on the shady
                  Side of sixty too.
              Still I love thee dearly!
                  Thou hast lands and pelf:
              But I love thee merely
                  Merely for thyself.

              Wilt thou love me, fairest?
                Though thou art not fair;
            And I think thou wearest
                Someone-else's hair.
            Thou could'st love, though, dearly:
                And, as I am told,
            Thou art very nearly
                Worth thy weight, in gold.

            Dost thou love me, sweet love?
                Tell me that thou dost!
            Women fairly beat one,
                But I think thou must.
            Thou art loved so dearly:
                I am plain, but then
            Thou (to speak sincerely)
                Art as plain again.

            Love me, bashful fairy!
                I've an empty purse:
            And I've "moods," which vary;
                Mostly for the worse.
            Still, I love thee dearly:
                Though I make (I feel)
            Love a little queerly,
                I'm as true as steel.

            Love me, swear to love me
                (As, you know, they do)
            By yon heaven above me
                And its changeless blue.
            Love me, lady, dearly,
                If you'll be so good;
            Though I don't see clearly
                On what ground you should.

            Love me ? ah or love me
                Not, but be my bride!
            Do not simply shove me
                (So to speak) aside!
            P'raps it would be dearly
                Purchased at the price;
            But a hundred yearly
                Would be very nice.

This poem is in the public domain.