Love, before she granted favours,
One day told the god Apollo
She on guarantees insisted,
For the times were false and hollow.
Laughingly the god made answer:
“Yes, the times are alter’d truly,
“And thou speakest like a usurer
“Who on pawn lends money duly.
“Well, then, I’ve a lyre, one only,—
“’Tis of gold, a good and rare one;
“Prythee say how many kisses
“Thou wilt lend upon it, fair one?”