Classic Poem

Fair Lady, take a special Care,
This pleasing Toy become no Snare;
The subtle God is full of Wiles,
And mischieves most, when most he smiles.
Beware to clasp him in your Arms,
Nor gaze too much upon his Charms;
Left in a borrow'd Shape he wound,
As once unhappy Dido found;
For while she view'd his smiling Look,
Her Heart receiv'd a fatal Stroke.