Classic Poem

White Innocence, that now liest spread,
Forsaken on thy widow'd bed,
Cold and alone, if fear, love, hate,
Or shame recall thy crimson mate,
From his dark mazes to reside
With thee his chaste and maiden bride:
And lest he backward thence should flow,
Congeal him with thy virgin snow.
But if his own heat, with thy pair
Of neighbouring suns and flaming hair,
Thaw him into a new divorce;
Lest to the heart he take his course,
Oh, lodge me there, where I'll defeat
All future hopes of his retreat,
And force the fugitive to seek
A constant station in thy cheek.
So each shall keep his proper place,
I in your heart, he in your face.