I'll always let her have her way;           

             And study to oblige her too,           

             When I have nothing else to do;           

             And am not tired, or wish to rest,           

             Or like some other plan the best,           

             For, more than this would be a task,           

             None but thy votaries would ask.           

             She must have riches, beauty, grace,           

             And modest sweetness in her face."           

             Just then he saw a scornful sneer           

             Upon Dan Cupid's face appear;           

             While courtiers whispered with a grin,           

             "Poor fellow, he'll be taken in!           

             The finest birds are always shy,           

             The rarest at a distance fly,           

             And Reason cannot soar so high."           

             "Aye, you may laugh, to prove her mind           

             At once exalted and refined,           

             I'll watch her skill in music's art;           

             By ear and fingers judge the heart,           

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