Classic Poem

Nay, wonder not, that no gay nymph will twine
In am'rous folds her tender frame with thine!
Nor think the costly vest, the gem's proud glare,
Proffer'd by thee, will ever tempt the fair!
A sorry tale they tell; that thou hast got
Under thy arms a vile, and filthy goat:
Hence females fly; nor strange—for never, sure,
Can the sweet maid a beast in bed endure.
Then, Rufus, first that noxious pest destroy;
Or cease to wonder why the nymphs are coy.