Classic Poem

I yield, dear Enemy, nor know
How to resist so fair a Foe;
Who would not thy soft yoke sustain,
And bow beneath thy easie chain,
That with a bondage blest might be
Which far transcends all liberty?
But since I freely have resign'd
At first assault my willing mind,
Insult not o're my captiv'd heart
With too much tyrannie and art,
Lest by thy scorn thou lose the prize,
Gaind by the power of thy bright eyes,
And thou this conquest thus shalt prove,
Though got by Beauty, kept by Love.