Classic Poem

Hapless maids, my pitying heart
Most for you feels sorrow's smart,
Since ye to an age belong
Seldom cheered by dance or song.

Beauteous maids in youthful prime
Blossom but a little time.
Must ye then put forth your bloom
Whilst the days are wrapt in gloom?

Yes! methinks your prime is left
Wholly of delights bereft,
That your after lives may prove
Blest by true devoted love!