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Time was when Love and I were well-acquainted

Time was when Love and I were well-acquainted,
Time was when we walked ever hand-in-hand.
A saintly youth, with worldly thought untainted,
None better loved than I in all the land.
Time was when maidens of the noblest station,
Forsaking even military men,
Would gaze upon me, rapt in adoration,
Ah me! Ah me! I was a fair young curate then.

Had I a headache, sighed the maids assembled,
And if I flushed, welled forth a silent tear,
Did I but shake then half a parish trembled,
And when I coughed, all thought the end was near.
I had no fears, no jealous doubts hung o’er me,
For I was loved beyond all other men.
Fled gilded dukes and belted earls before me.
Ah me! Ah me! I was a pale young curate then,
A pale young curate, a pale young curate,
Ah me! I was a pale young curate then.