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 one? 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.