Classic Poem

Sigh not, O Tibullus, in dolorous rhyme,
That Glycera's heart is of stone.
You palpably think it is close to a crime
That she is a younger man's own.

The lovely and low-browed Lycoris is keen
On Cyrus, but he doesn't care;
He harrows his heart and he bothers his bean
With Pholoë, sour and unfair.

But Pholoë feels not a quiver for Cy.
A wolf for a she-goat might fall
(Thus Venus has fun with the marital tie)
Before she saw Cyrus at all.

It's so with myself. Though a lady on me
Has smiled, I'm as chill as the pole;
For Myrtale, bold as the Hadrian sea,
Enmeshes mine innermost soul.