Constancy

I first saw Phebe when the show'rs
Had just made brighter all the flow'rs;
        Yet she was fair
        As any there,
And so I loved her hours and hours.

Then I met Helen, and her ways
Set my untutored heart ablaze.
        I loved at sight
        And deemed it right
To worship her for days and days.

Yet when I gazed on Clara's cheeks
And spoke the language Cupid speaks,
        O'er all the rest
        She seemed the best,
And so I loved her weeks and weeks.

But last of Love's sweet souvenirs
Was Delia with her sighs and tears.
        Of her it seemed
        I'd always dreamed,
And so I loved her years and years.

But now again with Phebe met,
I love the first one of the set.
        "Fickle," you say?
        I answer, "Nay,
My heart is true to one quartette."