Love, Like A Gypsy, 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 Smiled, 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.