One way of looking at it

I thought you always knew it well (Although indeed you never said so)— I thought you knew I dared not tell, And that was why you toss’d your head so:

For I have often heard you say You hate to see a fellow sighing, To hear him stammer all the day, And hint mysteriously at dying.

And if I have adored you so, I thought you knew I couldn’t help it; I could no more escape my woe Than Joseph could his empty well-pit.

It wasn’t fair of you at all: You moved so light and play’d so neatly, And set your foot upon the ball, And croquet’d me, I know, completely!

Why did you let me look such things, And whisper o’er our melting ices, If converse with you only brings This most objectionable crisis?

I wish I had not loved, for then Perhaps you would not be offended, Nor fling me back my heart again, Nor tell me thus that all is ended!

Oh yes! Sir John’s a charming catch— His stud, his balance at his banker’s, Unlike himself, are hard to match; And I have but one horse at Spanker’s!

He will not house you in some den, Served by a footman single-handed— He has such store of maids and men As your position, love, demanded:

And so, I quite approve your choice; I won’t regret my wasted wooing; I’ll think your sweet soprano voice Has warn’d me from my own undoing:

And yet I know, that when too late— Just as the spectre came to Priam— You’ll learn to rue your splendid fate, And wish yourself as free as I am.