Classic Poem

I.

My pregnant Passion, fierce Desire,
Abortive made my Love;
By having too much of Love's Fire,
I did the Colder prove;
So too much Vigour did prevent
My Love, of its Accomplishment.

II.

As, in Beginning of our Love,
My Tongue was useless made,
But less did my Dame's Pity move,
The more my Love 'twould aid;
The Haste, and Fierceness of my Love,
Its Lett did, and Prevention prove.

III.

Our Flames were quench'd, by their Excess;
Our Joys less, for their Store;
If that our Passion had been less,
Our Pleasure had been more:
Both, to our Meeting were so true,
That it, our Disappointment grew;

IV.

By Meeting so, too hastily,
Each other did we fail;
Her quick Grant, did her Love deny,
And made mine less prevail:
My Love she did retard, prevent,
Giving too soon, her kind Consent:

V.

Yet mayn't She think, that Want of Love,
Which was but its Excess;
The more she does my Passion move,
My Action, proves but less,
Had her Charms had o'er me less pow'r,
I had had over her, the more.

VI.

Great Joys, but like Great Sorrows, so,
Can less themselves express;
So, when our Words most Passion show,
Our Action proves but less;
Desire disarms itself, like Rage,
From more Heat, less fit to engage.