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Matthew Prior - To A Child Of Quality, Five Years Old. The Author Then Forty
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Lords, knights, and squires, the numerous band 
   That wear the fair Miss Mary`s fetters, 
Were summoned by her high command 
   To show their passions by their letters. 

My pen amongst the rest I took, 
   Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, 
Should dart their kindling fire, and look 
   The power they have to be obey`d. 

Nor quality, nor reputation, 
   Forbid me yet my flame to tell; 
Dear Five-years-old befriends my passion, 
   And I may write till she can spell. 

For, while she makes her silkworms beds 
   With all the tender things I swear; 
Whilst all the house my passion reads, 
   In papers round her baby`s hair; 

She may receive and own my flame; 
   For, though the strictest prudes should know it, 
She`ll pass for a most virtuous dame, 
   And I for an unhappy poet. 

Then too, alas! when she shall tear 
   The rhymes some younger rival sends, 
She`ll give me leave to write, I fear, 
   And we shall still continue friends. 

For, as our different ages move, 
   `Tis so ordain`d (would Fate but mend it!), 
That I shall be past making love 
   When she begins to comprehend it.
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