Classic Poem

SHALL I tell you whom I love?
— Hearken then awhile to me;
And if such a woman move
— As I now shall versify,
Be assured 'tis she or none,
That I love, and love alone.

Nature did her so much right
— As she scorns the help of art;
In as many virtues dight
— As e'er yet embraced a heart:
So much good so truly tried,
Some for less were deified.

Wit she hath, without desire
— To make known how much she hath;
And her anger flames no higher
— Than may fitly sweeten wrath.
Full of pity as may be,
Though perhaps not so to me.

Reason masters every sense,
— And her virtues grace her birth;
Lovely as all excellence,
— Modest in her most of mirth,
Likelihood enough to prove
Only worth could kindle love.

Such she is: and if you know
— Such a one as I have sung;
Be she brown, or fair, or so
— That she be but somewhat young;
Be assured 'tis she, or none,
That I love, and love alone.