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Poem	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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