Classic Poem

If you a woman would desire to hold
Faithful and true, and guided by your will,
Be sure no art, nor flattery's fine skill
Shall e'er deceive her, nor will gifts or gold;
By love alone her spirit is controlled,
This is her law, her Deity, until
The light falls pale upon her forehead still
The red lips ashen, and the heart grown cold.

So shall you woo her if you wish to win
Her heart and soul, to wear her like a flower
To drain her kisses, and keep back her tears;
Filling with love the space she lingers in;
Making her dream of you each passing hour
With utter longing through the iron years.