Classic Poem

1

Nay prithee do, be coy and slight me,
I must love, though thou abhor it;
This pretty niceness does invite me:
Scorne me, and I'll love thee for it
That World of beauty that is in you,
I'll overcome like Alexander
In amorous flames I can continue
Unsing'd, and prove a Salamander.

2

Do not be won too soon I prethee,
But let me woe, whilst thou dost fly me
'Tis my delight to dally with thee,
I'll court thee still if thou'lt deny me;
For there's no happiness but loving,
Enjoyment makes our pleasures flat.
Give me the heart that's alwayes moving,
And's not confind t'one you know what .

3

I've fresh supplies on all occasions,
Of thoughts, as Various as your face is,
No Directory for evasions,
Nor will I court by common-places
My heart's with Antidotes provided,
Nor will I dye 'cause you frown on me;
I'm merry when I am derided,
When you laugh at me or upon me.

4

'Tis fancy that creates those pleasures
That have no being but conceited;
And when we come to dig those treasures,
We see our selves our selves have cheated:
But if th'art minded to destroy me,
Then love me much, and love me ever,
I'll love thee more, and that may slay me,
So I thy Martyr am, or never.