Classic Poem

Fair rebel to thyself and Time,
Who laugh'st at all my tears,
When thou hast lost thy youthful prime,
And age his trophy rears,

Weighing thy inconsiderate pride,
Thou shalt in vain accuse it:
" Why beauty am I now denied,
Or knew not then to use it? "

Then shall I wish, ungentle Fair,
Thou in like flames may'st burn!
Venus, if just, will hear my prayer,
And I shall laugh my turn.