Laura On Me He Shall Ne'er Put A Ring, So, Mamma, 'Tis In Vain To Take Trouble, For I Was But Eighteen In Spring While His Age Exactly Is Double. Mamma He's But In His Thirty-Sixth Year, Tall, Handsome, Good-Natured And Witty, And Should You Refuse Him, My Dear, May You Die An Old Maid Without Pity! Laura His Figure, I Grant You, Will Pass, And At Present He's Young Enough Plenty; But When I Am Sixty, Alas! Will Not He Be A Hundred And Twenty?