Classic Poem

If Love's a Blessing, (as it is) you say,
We for it ought not then to Pray, but Pray;
Since Blessings, as they'd go for more Divine,
Shou'd more be gain'd by Pray'r, or Praise, than Coin:
For Bribes are Benefactors worst Disgrace;
Divine Grace we, by Buying it, debase:
For Love to Beauty, there's no Bribe, but Praise.
Love-Offerings, but Sacrilege wou'd prove,
To Buy the Blessings of the God of Love:
Since by the Presents, Love's Devoto's make,
To She-Divinities, for their Love's Sake,
Honour we give 'em, from 'em more to take.
The Goddess whom we Worship, we Prophane;
To think, She'd grant our Pray'r, but for her Gain;
Since Pleasures must be mutual, frank, and free,
To Men the greater, welcomer to be:
We lessen them, our Benefactors flight,
But more, the more we'd them with Hire requite;
Shou'd undervalue more their Love and them,
To think they Coin, cou'd more than Love esteem,
Shou'd them disparage more, the more we pay,
Their Honour, with our Gifts, to take away;
Since we, but gratefully, ungrateful so,
Less Love, but as we give more for it show,
As less our Value, or Esteem for You;
Since 'tis the Mercenary Pact, not Love,
Which does more Shame to Trading-Women prove:
Love is not shamefully receiv'd, or paid,
Till of a free Gift, it becomes a Trade;
Since 'tis the Frankness of the Benefit,
Not the great Value, which enhanses it;
No Thanks are due to Love, for which we pay;
Our Pay, our Obligation takes away;
Since there's no Obligation, where there's Right,
We nothing ow to Love, Gold does requite,
The Kiss, Embrace, of any beauteous Maid,
But by Man's Kiss, Embrace can be repaid;
Nothing, but Pleasure, can reward Delight,
Nothing but Satisfaction, do Love right;
Nothing, but Smile for Smile, and Kiss for Kiss,
But Look for Look, or ought, but Joy, for Bliss,
Or Love for Love, a true Requital is;
Then Gold, as well might Satisfaction prove,
In Duties of Religion, as of Love;
For since Love is a Duty so Divine,
No Money for that Blessing ought to Fine;
So nothing then, can Satisfaction prove,
To the Maid's Frank Trust, but our Faithful Love;
Nature's Gifts, Gifts of Nature must repay,
The Bribe, the Woman's Honour takes away:
Her Love her Shame, but by our Purchace grows;
Since Love, when it grows Mercenary, does
The Name of Love, for that of Int'rest lose;
Which is but more a Woman's Infamy,
As it, her Man does with more Money buy;
Wherefore, I'll not bribe it ungratefully;
Since, to bribe Sacred Love, as Justice too,
A Wrong, but of a Benefit wou'd grow,
To Her or Him, who shou'd the Favour show;
Wou'd make the Sacrilegious Offerer,
As more devout to's Goddess he'd appear,
With his Gold, more her Undervaluer:
I'd grateful to thy Love and Honour prove,
Wou'd not, with Offerings, prophane thy Love;
Which is most valu'd, as most frank and free,
Then, that I prize thy Love most, shalt thou see;
Because I nothing give, for it or thee:
I'd have you take with me more Liberty,
You were my Slave, shou'd I your Body buy;
But I your Slave am, therefore my True Love,
Best, by my giving nothing for you, prove;
Best serve your Love, and save your Honour too,
When I, your Slave, buy not my Chains of you,
Which wou'd make, both's Love, both's Dishonour grow;
By which, our Noble, Free Love, wou'd be made
Of a just Commerce, a base Trucking Trade;
Since none, but faithless Turks , or Jews , their Gains
Wou'd make, of their Slaves Service, or their Chains.