Classic Poem

Ah Celia, that I were but sure
Thy love, like mine, could still endure;
That time and absence, which destroy
The cares of lovers and their joy,
Could never rob me of that part
Which you have given me of your heart;
Others unenvied might possess
Whole hearts, and boast that happiness.
'Twas nobler fortune to divide
The Roman Empire in her pride,
Than on some low and barbarous throne,
Obscurely placed, to rule alone.
Love only from thy heart exacts
The several debts thy face contracts,
And by that new and juster way
Secures thy Empire and his sway;
Favoring but one, he might compel
The hopeless lover to rebel.
But should he other hearts thus share,
That in the whole so worthless are,
Should into several squadrons draw
That strength which kept entire could awe,
Men would his scattered powers deride,
And conquering him those spoils divide.