Classic Poem

Thou saidst that I alone thy heart could move,
And that for me thou wouldst abandon Jove.
I loved thee then, nor with a love defiled,
But as a father loves his only child.
I know thee now, and though I fiercelier burn,
Thou art become the object of my scorn.
See what thy falsehood gets: I must confess
I love thee more, but I esteem thee less.