Love, before she granted favours, One day told the god Apollo She on guarantees insisted, For the times were false and hollow. Laughingly the god made answer: “Yes, the times are alter’d truly, “And thou speakest like a usurer “Who on pawn lends money duly. “Well, then, I’ve a lyre, one only,— “’Tis of gold, a good and rare one; “Prythee say how many kisses “Thou wilt lend upon it, fair one?” |