Classic Poem

Do not repent, mine own love, that thou so soon didst surrender!
Trust me, I deem thee not bold! reverence only I feel.
Manifold workings the darts of Amor possess; some but scratching,
Yet with insidious effect, poison the bosom for years.
Others mightily feather'd, with fresh and newly-born sharpness
Pierce to the innermost bone, kindle the blood into flame.
In the heroical times, when loved each god and each goddess,
Longing attended on sight; then with fruition was bless'd.
Think'st thou the goddess had long been thinking of love and its pleasures
When she, in Ida's retreats, own'd to Anchises her flame?
Had but Luna delay'd to kiss the beautiful sleeper,
Oh, by Aurora, ere long, he had in envy been rous'd!
Hero Leander espied at the noisy feast, and the lover
Hotly and nimbly, ere long, plunged in the night-cover'd flood.
Rhea Silvia, virgin princess, roam'd near the Tiber,
Seeking there water to draw, when by the god she was seiz'd.
Thus were the sons of Mars begotten! The twins did a she-wolf
Suckle and nurture,—and Rome call'd herself queen of the world.