He thinks he loves me but he knows not love
For if t'were love he would not so complain
I keep him from himself, be speaking of
My countless faults that he deigns to disdain
If it were love he'd look me in the eye
Our cheeks would redden and our hearts would melt
As our lips fastened and the world went by
The wayside, no more caring how we felt
To me he is a God, a gentleman
More than a God, a kind and glorious soul
A courteous lover and a brilliant man
Lacking but the gift to love me whole
He knows love. You can see it in his plays
Would that this knowledge my poor heart allays
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