Classic Poem

WHEREIN LIFE WITHOUT HONOUR IS UNTHINKABLE

In lovely woman life should claim the first
Concern, and honour should the next claim press;
Nay, lacking honour, what an emptiness!
What good corrupted and what bliss accurst!
She that hath honour's fragile rampart burst,
Sexless and lifeless, though still beauty's dress
She wear, a death in life she must confess,
A hell of shame and flame and feverish thirst!
Lucretia's end no marvel is to me,
Save that, when in the last extremity
Disgrace alone was death, she seized the sword.
In vain by sophists is her course deplored:
All they adduce is false, unclean with scars;
Only the Truth walks white with clouds of stars!