Upon Cupid (Love like a gipsy lately came)

Love like a gipsy lately came,

And did me much importune

To see my hand, that by the same

He might foretell my fortune.

He saw my palm, and then, said he,

I tell thee by this score here,

That thou within few months shalt be

The youthful Prince d'Amour here.

I smil'd, and bade him once more prove,

And by some cross-line show it,

That I could ne'er be prince of love,

Though here the princely poet.