Classic Poem

If Aaron's sons, who so profanely came
Up to the altar with unhallowed flame,
Were justly by avenging fire consum'd,
Who with strange fire to tempt their God presum'd;
What flames are due to their more daring crimes,
Who rob his altar to enrich their rhimes?
Steal holy fire, then to an idol turn,
And incense to it most profanely burn;
Offer love's noblest flame, by heaven inspir'd,
By heaven alone deserv'd, by heaven desir'd,
To some vile heap of flesh and blood, that must
In a few moments turn to worms and dust!
The language of the temple is employ'd
To flatter female vanity and pride.
His life, his soul, his all, the fool devotes
To a frail deity in petticoats;
Himself a prostrate victim humbly bows
At her insulting feet with prayers and vows;
His brightest fancies in her praises spends,
And yet all's but her beauty's foil, pretends,
Swearing his bliss on her, on her alone depends;
Boasts of his painted flames and bloodless scars,
And blows the empty bubble to the stars.

He may be witty; but he can't be wise,
Who cheats himself, and has a soul to sell,
To buy another a fool's paradise,
And purchase nothing for himself but hell.