Classic Poem

See how the charming fair
Does break , the yielding Air ,
Which by her troubled so,
More pure , more smooth does flow.
Winds , without murmurs rise,
Complaining in sad Sighs ,
Though they dare not repine ,
How loth they 're to resign
Their Int'rest in the fair,
To new succeeding Air .
How silently they grieve ,
Their snatch't Embrace to leave
To new Winds , who, their place
Supply, and their Embrace.
Courting their longer Bliss
At ev'ry parting Kiss .
While with a gentle Gale ,
They swell her painted Sail .
Then trembling , they give way,
Fearing, to disobey.
Though fain they her would bear,
With ev'ry moving Air ;
In vain, alas! they prove
Unkindness to remove,
In vain, to win the Field,
Air may, she cannot yield .
Her Hand , a thousand waies,
New Favourites , does raise,
Which to salute her, proud,
Do round about her croud ,
And Rival -like, pursue
Th' old , thrust out by the new .

Well may they boast, they can
Move false Trees , in her Fanne ,
And with their tremblings , make
Their Trunks , though rooted , shake.
With Oaks they may contend,
But She, can never bend .
She, should ev'n Storms engage
Her with their roughest Rage ,
And all their utmost prove,
Too stubborn is, to move .