III.— LOVE SERVICEABLE.

What measure Fate to him shall mete Is not the noble Lover's care; He's heart-sick with a longing sweet To make her happy as she's fair. Oh, misery, should she him refuse, And so her dearest good mistake! His own success he thus pursues With frantic zeal for her sole sake. To lose her were his life to blight, Being loss to hers; to make her his, Except as helping her delight, He calls but incidental bliss; And holding life as so much pelf To buy her posies, learns this lore: He does not rightly love himself Who does not love another more.