Wrote to my Judith. But have had no letter from her. Nor from home.
"You ask me love, how many times
I think of you a day.
I frankly answer only once
And mean just what I say.
You seem perplexed and somewhat hurt
But wait and hear the rhyme
Pray how can one do, more than once
What one does all the time."
Debt [dun] every lady twice credit, call regularly every day I'll trust.