Classic Poem

I.

All over, I'm in Love with thee,
As thou, all over, Lovely art,
No Part of thee, but pleases me,
Except thy proud, ungentle Heart;

II.

I can't say, 'tis thy Lip, or Eye,
Or this, or that peculiar Grace,
But I, for all together Die,
Which make up thy Dear Killing-Face;

III.

Your Beauty's Glory's evident,
Tho' where it is, we cannot say;
Thus, unseen Stars i'th'Element,
Together, make the Milky-Way;

IV.

So numerous your Graces are,
In all Parts Beauty so does shine;
Our Eyes distracted, can't tell where,
Or Love, to one Part can confine;

V.

For him, who loves your Eyes alone,
A kind Look only shou'd be his;
And he, whose Lips but dwell upon
The Praise of yours, shou'd miss their Kiss;

VI.

But thee thus I love, and esteem,
Admire alike each Lovely Part,
That I no Diss'rence find in them,
But to them all, give all my Heart;

VII.

Him to the Heart Love ne'er did strike,
Who cou'd tell, what 'twas made his Wound,
Or can say what 'tis, he does like,
For Mad in Love, will e'er be found.