University of Virginia Library


40

XIX. Hypocrisy.

What will you say to me,
Queen of my heart?
Meeting, good-day to me,
And, when we part,
Farewell, good-night, good-bye?
Which are we, you and I,
Shy hypocrites or sly,
Wretch that thou art?
Say rather, meeting me,
“Chance willed it so!”
As your guest greeting me,
“How bold you grow!
Who bade you come to-day?”
Ah, but still choose, I pray,
When I would leave, to say
“Why must you go?”