When Love and I drew softly nigh 
And gazed in modest Chloe's eye 
We saw reflected there in part 
The lovely mansion of her heart, 
A sight so fair that, quite bereft 
Of sense and shame, we had but left 
One wish, that we by foul or fair 
Might enter in and tarry there. 

But when, with vagabondish art, 
We nearer crept to Chloe's heart 
That we might steal therein, we found 
Her heart with barbed wires enwound; 
And crawling through those cruel rings 
My garments caught, Love caught his wings. 
And though we now would fain depart 
We twain are snared, outside her heart.