Hidden by old age awhile
In masker’s cloak and hood,
Each hating what the other loved,
Face to face we stood:
‘That I have met with such,’ said he,
‘Bodes me little good.’
 
‘Let others boast their fill,’ said I,
‘But never dare to boast
That such as I had such a man
For lover in the past;
Say that of living men I hate
Such a man the most.’
 
'A loony’d boast of such a love,'
He in his rage declared:
But such as he for such as me—
Could we both discard
This beggarly habiliment—
Had found a sweeter word.

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