Classic Poem

I am, cry'd Apollo, and run as he spoke
But the skittish young Damsel ne'er turn'd back to look,
I am the great God Tenedos Adores
And Delos does also acknowledge my power.

Round my Head the Sun beams you may glittering see
And no man alive can make Ballads like me,
All Physic I know — she mended her pace
And his Godhead halfe tir'd was quitting the Chase.

Had Apollo known Women, as well as I know 'em,
He would not have talk'd of a potion or poem,
But he had appear'd in O[xenden']s Shape,
By my Soul little Daphne had suffer'd the Rape.