Classic Poem

Thy Beauty, which invited first my Love,
And me to taste the Joys of yours did move,
Did first both's Fatal Disappointment prove;
Thy sudden, unexpected Meeting me,
Made me to fail (in what thou met'st for) thee,
More backward, for thy Forwardness, to be;
Thy Beauty, which first rais'd my Passion so,
Its own Delay did make my Passion grow;
At once its Cause, and its Impediment,
And made my Love its own Desire prevent;
The Cause then of my Love, is now its Blame,
My Love, since not my Sin, is more my Shame;
So that my most unpard'nable Offence,
Was my most guilty, treac'hrous Innocence;
My Fault is more, but as my Sin is less,
As your Consent begat my Backwardness,
My Joy was frustrated by its Success;
So, your surprizing unexpected Love
More Cruelty did, by more Kindness, prove;
Your Favour turn'd your Kindness into Spight,
Yielding too soon, prevented my Delight;
By that Haste you to gratifie me made,
My Joy you by your forward Love delay'd;
Ungrateful made me, by your Kindness so,
Out of more Love, less Gratitude to show,
Out of more Service, to do less for you;
Yet know it is but just, Kind-Cruel-Dame!
You now shou'd without Pleasure suffer Shame;
Since Pain, for Pleasure, I'd have giv'n you, you,
First made me (for my Kindness) undergo,
And made you too sure Friendship balk my Love,
My Joy's Possession, their Prevention prove;
Your sudden Grant did my Desire delay,
My Pleasure, giving, it, you took away,
Your hasty Love did put mine to a Stay;
Too much Bliss caus'd our Infelicity,
As too much Store, the Miser's Misery;
Since, as my Love and Passion was the more,
It, to do yours more Reason, had less Pow'r;
As oft the Fulness of the Purse, (no doubt)
Prevents the Coin in it from shaking out;
Our Passion then, as in Revenge, in Love,
(As us 'twould more to Satisfaction move)
Does more our Impotence in Action prove;
As too much Haste is our Design's Delay,
Too much Rage does its Execution stay,
Tongue-ties a Man, when he has most to say;
Enfeebles most his Limbs, as he wou'd more,
Exert his Passion, show his Strength or Pow'r;
Then as our Dumbness oft proves more our Love,
Impotence does our Strength of Passion prove;
So call not Want of Love, my Love's Excess,
I'd shown you more, had I had for you less.