Classic Poem

Trust not man, for he'll deceive you,
Treach'ry is his sole intent;
First he'll court you, then he'll leave you,
Poor deluded to lament.
Listen to a kind adviser;
Men pursue but to perplex;
Would you happy be, grow wiser,
And avoid the faithless sex.

Form'd by nature to undo us,
They escape our utmost heed;
Oh, how humble when they woo us,
Oh, how vain when they succeed!
So the bird, when once deluded
By the artful fowler's snare,
Mourns out life in cage secluded.
Virgins, then in time beware.