Classic Poem

I am Sive-like, and can hold
Nothing hot, or nothing cold.
Put in Love, and put in too
Jealousie, and both will through:
Put in Feare, and hope, and doubt;
What comes in, runnes quickly out:
Put in secrecies withall,
What ere enters, out it shall:
But if you can stop the Sive,
For mine own part I'de as lieve,
Maides sho'd say, or Virgins sing,
Herrick keeps, as holds nothing.