Classic Poem

V.

A Ballad .
Dido was the Carthage Queene
And lov'd the Trojan Knight,
That wandring many coasts had seene
And many a dreadfull fight:
As they on hunting road, a shower
Drave them, in a loving hower,
Downe to a darksome cave:
Where Aeneas with his charmes
Lockt Queene Dido in his armes
And had what hee could have.

Dido Hymens Rites forgot,
Her love was wing'd with haste:
Her honour shee considered not,
But in her breast him plac't.
And, when her love was new begunne,
Jove sent downe his winged Sonne
To fright Aeneas sleepe;
Bad him by the breake of day
From Queene Dido steale away:
Which made her waile and weepe.

Dido wept, but what of this?
The Gods would have it so:
Aeneas nothing did amisse,
For hee was forc't to goe.
Learne, Lordings, then, no faith to keepe
With your Loves, but let them weepe:
'Tis folly to be true.
Let this Story serve your turne,
And let twenty Didoes burne
So you get daily new.