Classic Poem

Advise your Friend, grave Man of Art!
I find a strange unusual Smart:
'Tis here — fierce Symptoms at my Heart.
Discover .

'Tis Pleasure, Pain, a mixt Degree —
My Pulse examine, here's your Fee.
What think you can my Sickness be?
A Lover .

A Lover! 'tis my Case, too sure!
O ease me strait, I'll not endure;
Prescribe, I'll follow close the Cure.
Take Hope .

But if she, spight of Speech or Pen,
Prove coy — or false with other Men,
Oh Doctor! what Expedient then?
A Rope .