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."