LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band <br /> That wear the fair Miss Mary's fetters, <br />Were summoned by her high command <br /> To show their passions by their letters. <br /> <br />My pen amongst the rest I took, <br /> Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, <br />Should dart their kindling fire, and look <br /> The power they have to be obey'd. <br /> <br />Nor quality, nor reputation, <br /> Forbid me yet my flame to tell; <br />Dear Five-years-old befriends my passion, <br /> And I may write till she can spell. <br /> <br />For, while she makes her silkworms beds <br /> With all the tender things I swear; <br />Whilst all the house my passion reads, <br /> In papers round her baby's hair; <br /> <br />She may receive and own my flame; <br /> For, though the strictest prudes should know it, <br />She'll pass for a most virtuous dame, <br /> And I for an unhappy poet. <br /> <br />Then too, alas! when she shall tear <br /> The rhymes some younger rival sends, <br />She'll give me leave to write, I fear, <br /> And we shall still continue friends. <br /> <br />For, as our different ages move, <br /> 'Tis so ordain'd (would Fate but mend it!), <br />That I shall be past making love <br /> When she begins to comprehend it.<br /><br />Matthew Prior<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-child-of-quality-five-years-old-1704-the-au/
