So hath Trade withered up Love's sinewy prime

"So hath Trade withered up Love's sinewy prime, Men love not women as in olden time. Ah, not in these cold merchantable days Deem men their life an opal gray, where plays The one red sweet of gracious ladies'-praise. Now, comes a suitor with sharp prying eye— Says, `Here, you lady, if you'll sell, I'll buy: Come, heart for heart—a trade? What! weeping? why?' Shame on such wooer's dapper-mercery!"*1*