Classic Poem

Why C——n with cruel Aim?
Seek you to hurt a wounded Fame?
Or how have I provok'd your Rage,
To bring me thus upon the Stage?
'Tis true, indeed, I cou'd not love you?
But why should that so greatly move you?
Are you not us'd to plead in vain,
And practis'd to endure Disdain?
You tamely bear the Scorn of Men,
Why vex'd at it from Women then?
When you approach'd me in Disguise,
And swore to fifty thousand Lyes;
And more your self to recommend,
Basely traduc'd your absent Friend?
When you invoked each Pow'r, to prove
The Truth and Ardour of your Love,
I look'd thro' all the vile Deceit,
Saw C——n, and knew the Cheat .
Thy Wife, with Hide of well tann'd Oak,
May sure to rove her Spouse provoke;
And you from Cuckoldom be safe,
Either from D-cy or from T-ffe.
And Jealousy must be a Jest,
For her whom all Mankind detest.
Take then some culinary Fair,
Nor seek a Star beyond your Sphere.
How cou'd you hope to meet Success,
Unskill'd in Breeding or Address?
Unbless'd with Eloquence to move
The melting Soul to mutual Love?
Your Lodgings, Gold, and Wine three-Doz'n,
I scorn'd, and eke to call you Cousin;
And cou'dst thou, dull Impostor, think
To purchase me with Gold or Drink?
Yet still, in Principles, 'tis known,
We judge of others by our own;
And I excuse the sordid Thought,
In thee, whose Soul is to be bought.
Thy licens'd Tongue the Law may murther;
But, prithee, mangle me no further:
For tho' my Colours are too faint
Such glaring Crimes as thine to paint;
Yet I sometimes, in Black and White,
Can draw a Knave's Resemblance right.
Thy Envy, then, and Rage give over,
Thou worthless, mean, rejected Lover!
Or in a Print, I swear to shew you,
So like; that all Mankind shall know you.