Classic Poem

You swear you'll come, you name the time and place,
Whene'er I ask of you one fond embrace:
The livelong night I wait, racked with desire,
Rigid with lust, and all my veins on fire,
And ofttime thinking of your girlish frame
My left hand quenches the devouring flame.
In bitterness of heart I'll ask my god
To curse you, lying and deceitful sod.
May you ne'er stir from out your threshold's door,
Save at the heels of some damned one eye'd whore.