Though I have loved you well, I ween,
And you, too, fancied me,
Your heart hath too divided been
A constant heart to be.
And like the gay and youthful knight,
Who loved and rode away,
Your fleeting fancy takes a flight
With every fleeting day.
So let it be as you propose,
Tho� hard the struggle be;
�Tis fitter far, that goodness knows!
Since we cannot agree.
Let�s quarrel once for all, my sweet,
Forget the past, and then
I�ll kiss each pretty girl I meet,
While you�ll flirt with the men.