Classic Poem

Rebellious fools that scorn to bow
Beneath Loves easie sway,
Whose stubborn wils no laws allow,
Disdaining to obay,
Mark but this wreath of hair and you shall see
None that might wear such fetters would be free.

I once could boast a soul like you
As unconfin'd as aire;
But mine, which force could not subdue,
Was caught within this snare;
And (by my self betray'd) I for this gold,
A heart that many storms withstood, have sold.

No longer now wise Art enquire
(With this vain search delighted)
How souls that humane breasts inspire
Are to their frames united;
Material chains such spirits well may bind,
When this soft brayd can tie both Arm and Mind.

Now (Beauties) I defie your charm,
Rul'd by more powerful Art,
This mystick wreath which crowns my Arm,
Defends my vanquisht Heart;
And I, subdu'd by one more fair, shall be
Secur'd from Conquest by Captivity.