Classic Poem

Think of reason,
Love 's a poison
Tender hearts should fear to touch. Mist .

From this poison
There 's no reason,
I conceive, to fear so much. P HIL .

Dreadful poison!
Beauteous reason! Mist .

Horrid reason!
Charming poison! P HIL .

Farewell, poison;
'Tis to reason
I direct my placid view: Mist .

Nonsense, reason!
'Tis the poison,
Sir, I must expect of you.