Classic Poem

Fie, Aphrodite, shamming you are no mother,
And your maternal markings trying to smother,
As you were maiden, how you love another! . . .
If one like you need such pretence to noose him,
Indulgence in too early fires beware you,
All girls yet virgin, and have constant care you
Become not staled by use as she has, ere you
Meet your most-loved; lest, tumbled, you should lose him.