Classic Poem

ME thinks, 'tis strange, you can't afford
One pitying Look, one parting Word;
Humanity claims this as due,
But what's Humanity to you.

Cruel Man! I am not Blind,
Your Infidelity I find;
Your want of Love, my Ruin shews
My broken Heart, your broken Vows:
Yet maugre all your rigid Hate,
I will be T RUE in spight of Fate;
And one Preheminence I'll claim,
To be for ever still the same.

Shew me a Man that dare be T RUE ,
That dares to suffer what I do;
That can for ever Sigh unheard,
And ever Love without Regard.
I then will own your Prior claim,
To L OVE , to H ONOUR , and to F AME :
But 'till that time, my Dear, adieu,
I yet S UPERIOR am to you.