Classic Poem

The fairest soonest fade,
Young brides in flowers array'd,
Will soon grow old,
And prove a scold,
Tho' their forms decay'd.

But would you live with her at ease,
Fly from the elf and leave her;
The only means a dame to please
Is by your flight to grieve her.

The sweetest soonest pall,
The tallest soonest fall;
The tender bloom,
Of sweet perfume,
Will pine the first of all.

Little regard the ills of life,
Her frowns are but to flatter;
So when your flight has grieved your wife,
Come back and discord scatter.

The gaudy charms of May,
Are quickly past away;
The honey moon
Will change as soon,
And love to ills betray.

The fairest fruit upon the tree
Is ever soonest rotten;
Know in as much the nuptial glee
Must pass and be forgotten.