Classic Poem

It happen'd in sport, I remembèr it well,
As together we pleasingly strove;
I chanc'd from your lips the Sweet nectar to steal;
It was sweet as the nectar of Jove!

But to punish my theft, a full hour or more
On the rack of despair I was laid;
In vain did I weep, and protest, and implore;
'Twas in vain to thy pity to plead.

Nay, scarce had I touch'd that dear mouth, when behold,
Lest one atom of mine should remain,
With water as much as each hand could well hold
How you wash'd it again, and again!

Had some nasty wanton bedaub'd you with slime,
Sure you could not have shewn more affright:
O, cruel, why punish for ever my crime?
Why for ever my passion thus slight?

Sweet kiss of ambrosia, how alter'd, how lost!
Not more bitter sad hellebore now;
But since thou such trouble, such anguish hast cost,
I will ne'er steal another, I vow!