Classic Poem

I.

O tell me Chloris! prithee tell,
(Since sure you can) the Reason why?
The best-stor'd Beauties Love shou'd sell
Most dear, and Poor Men dearest buy?
That Women shou'd Injustice do,
Before they love, and after too?

II.

You Fair in Looks, not Actions are,
From Men exacting Pay and Pains;
Since Woman has a double Share
Of Pleasure, she shou'd have less Gains;
Not from her Labourer require,
The more he does for her, more Hire;

III.

If you pretend your self undone,
By Credit, your Friends from you take;
Therefore you, Reparation soon,
Require, your Rifler's Gold shou'd make;
Silly, proud, craving Mistress! know,
Bribes, or Hire, more wou'd lessen you;

IV.

Thee, thy Love, I prize so, that I,
With Bribes can't undervalue thee;
For he who wou'd thy Favour buy,
A Mercenary makes thee be,
Your Love, and you, I value so,
I'll nothing give for it, or you;

V.

Of the more Value that you are,
To me you shou'd the cheaper grow;
The more dear, you grow less my Dear,
The more cheap, more I'd honour you;
Thee more, the less I give, I prize,
From Cheapness, thou't in Value rise.