Classic Poem

When I was ten and she fifteen —
— Ah, me! how fair I thought her.
She treated with disdainful mien
— The homage that I brought her,
And, in a patronizing way,
Would of my shy advances say:
— " It's really quite absurd, you see;
— He's very much too young for me. "

I'm twenty now, she twenty-five —
— Well, well! how old she's growing.
I fancy that my suit might thrive
— If pressed again; but, owing
To great discrepancy in age,
Her marked attentions don't engage
— My young affections, for, you see,
— She's really quite too old for me.