Classic Poem

Ah! love me not with honey-sweet excesses,
With passionate prodigalities of praise,
With wreaths of daisied words and quaint caresses,
Adore me not in charming childish ways.
This pastoral is beautiful enough:
But never shall it antidote my drouth:
I want a reticent ironic Love
With smiling eyes and faintly mocking mouth.
Sweetness is best when bitterly 'tis bought:
So in Love's deadly duel I would not be
Victorious, and the peace I long have sought,
Sure knowledge of his great supremacy,
Would buy with pangs, like that bright cuirassier,
The queen-at-arms that knew the Peliad's spear.