Classic Poem

1.

Tell me, Pyrrha, what fine youth.
All perfum'd and crown'd with roses,
To thy chamber thee pursu'th,
And thy wanton arm encloses?

2.

What is he thou now hast got,
Whose more long and golden tresses
Into many a curious knot
Thy more curious finger dresses?

3.

How much will he wail his trust,
And, forsook, begin to wonder,
When black winds shall billows thrust,
And break all his hopes in sunder!

4.

Fickleness of winds he knows
Very little that doth love thee;
Miserable are all those
That affect thee ere they prove thee.

5.

I, as one from shipwreck freed,
To the ocean's mighty ranger
Consecrate my dropping weed,
And in freedom think of danger.