Classic Poem

What is love? a compound strange,
Made of mingled hopes and fears;
Subject to perpetual change,
Quick succeeding smiles and tears.

What is love? a sudden whim,
Like lightning, passing through the mind:
A strange capricious fickle thing,
More inconstant than the wind.

What is love? a gentle flame,
Blazing round the youthful heart;
Prov'd by the mention of a name,
Which sweet emotions can impart.

Prov'd by the glances of the eye,
Which, what the tongue denies, reveals;
Prov'd by the half suppressed sigh,
Which from th' unguarded bosom steals.

What is love when most refin'd?
The inmate of a gen'rous breast;
A feeling of angelic kind,
Far surpassing all the rest.