Classic Poem

CLXXI

Dido am I, the founder first of Carthage,
That, as thou seest, mine own death do procure
To save my faith and for no new love's rage,
To flee Iarbas and keep my promise sure.
But see Fortune, that would in 'nother age
Mine honest will in perfect bliss assure;
For while I lived, she made my day short,
And now with lies my shame she doth report.