Classic Poem

I.

O Celia! be wary, when Celadon sues,
These wits are the bane of your charms:
Beauty play'd against reason , will certainly lose,
Warring, naked, with robbers, in arms .

II.

Young Damon , despis'd, for his plainness of parts,
Has worth , that a woman should prize;
He'll run the race out , tho' he heavily starts ,
And distance the short-winded wife .

III.

The fool is a saint, in the temple of Love,
And kneels all his life, there, to pray:
The wit but looks in , and makes haste, to remove ,
'Tis a stage, he but takes, in his way.