Classic Poem

The better you know of my true love's throe,
The more you fly me,
My cruel one;
The more I woo you, the more pursue you,
The more you defy me,
The less are won.

Then shall I leave you? Though 'twould not grieve you,
Alas! believe me
I'm not so brave!
Yet I'll bless the hour of Death's full power
If you'll receive me
To die your slave.