Classic Poem

Soft are my lady's lips
And soft her rosy breast,
Her snow-white arm
Enfolds me warm
And lulls me soft to rest.

But hard of heart is she,
Love naught but kisses gains;
'Gainst mercy steeled,
She will not yield,
And virgin still remains.

I thirst in sight of bliss
Like Tantalus of yore,
I know full well
The pains of hell
And can endure no more.