Classic Poem

C ELIA , too late you would repent;
The offering all your store
Is now but like a pardon sent
To one that's dead before.

While at the first you cruel prov'd,
And grant the bliss too late,
You hinder'd me of one I lov'd,
To give me one I hate.

I thought you innocent as fair,
When first my court I made;
But when your falshoods plain appear
My love no longer stay'd.

Your bounty of those favours shewn,
Whose worth you first deface,
Is melting valued medals down,
And giving us the brass.

Oh, since the thing we beg's a toy
That's pris'd by love alone,
Why cannot women grant the joy
Before our love is gone.