Classic Poem

I.

A plague take all such grumbling elves,
If they will rail, so be it;
Because we're happier than themselves,
They can't endure to see it.

For me, I never shall repine,
Let whate'er fate o'ertake us;
For love and Annette shall be mine,
Though all the world forsake us.

II.

Then, dear Annette, regard them not,
The hours shall pass on gaily,
In spight of every snare and plot
Of that old doating Bailly.

No never, Annette, thou'lt repine,
Let whate'er fate o'ertake us;
For love and Lubin shall be thine,
Though all the world forsake us.