Classic Poem

Ye Ladys, whose enchanting eyes,
Outshine the beautys of the skys,
Forget awhile your chat and needle,
To find out this mysterious riddle.

I NCONSTANT is my mien and shape,
For I can various creatures ape:
And like old Proteus can transform
To mouse, or monkey, fly or worm.
From place to place I love to range:
My motion too is very strange.
I sometimes fly, and sometimes creep,
And travel most when others sleep:
Nay often to oblige my spark,
Perform long journeys in the dark;
And without whip, or spur can haste,
And make the dullest jade go fast.
In stormy nights I love to roam,
On wings of tempests far from home.
As hermits by their beards grow sage,
My power encreases with my age:
I still my largest empire hold,
When feeble, impotent and old.
And when my teeming days are o'er,
I often suckle as before.
Provok'd, much mischief oft' I do,
Proud kings my indignation rue.
I cattle bane, and beauty marr,
And shatter many a china jar.
Once in a mad, fanatic trance,
I drove the English out of France .
Fair ladys oft my power command,
With too severe, tyrannic hand.

Now your bright fancy soon will guess
At what yourselves so much possess.