Classic Poem

An Ode

I.

Close circled in my fond Embrace,
With ardent Eyes, and ruffled Charms,
While Anger heighten'd ev'ry Grace,
PANTHEA struggled in my Arms:
Strongly I clasp'd, nor set the Charmer free,
Till more than a King's Ransom was my Fee.

II.

She gave, and made my Bliss compleat,
A Kiss with so much Fragrance fraught,
So melting soft, so balmy sweet,
As Poets Rapture never thought;
Surpassing Cordials, which our Lives renew,
Hyblaean Honey, or Arabian Dew.

III.

So with Heav'ns Envoy, unapall'd
ISAAC 's bold Offspring dar'd contend,
And so the Wrestler's Strength prevail'd,
And so the Combat found an End;
With mortal Gripe he grasp'd his Heav'nly Foe,
Nor till he forc'd a Blessing, let him go.

IV.

But Cares and Sorrows ever spring,
Where Joy redundant overflows,
Honey's attended with a Sting,
And with a prickly Thorn, the Rose:
This bitter Lesson, practically true,
The Seer experienc'd, and the Sinner too.

V.

With Anguish both our Blessings buy,
Both wounded from our Angel's Part,
The Patriarch's Hurt was in his Thigh,
Mine in the Seat of Life, my Heart.
Thus Pleasure always leads succeeding Pain,
And makes us Loosers by what most we gain.