Classic Poem

A THOUSAND fops may flatter to deceive,
Yet doubt their transports, nor their vows believe;
But if a feeling heart with love should burn,
Approve the passion, and the love return;
For few the joys this checquer'd life bestows,
Its pleasures fleeting! permanent its woes!
Yet love can gild, with brightest rays the scene,
And hope can make the barren desart green;
For sure if bliss to human kind is known,
'Tis when two breasts a mutual passion own;
When hopes and fears to one dear object tend,
And the sweet mistress is the truest friend!