Classic Poem

Fool take up thy shaft again
If thy store
Thou profusely spend in vain,
Who can furnish thee with more?
Throw not then away thy darts
On impenetrable hearts.

Think not thy pale flame can warm
Into tears,
Or dissolve the snowy charm
Which her frozen bosom wears,
That expos'd unmelted lies
To the bright suns of her eyes.

But since thou thy power hast lost,
Nor canst fire
Kindle in that breast, whose frost
Doth these flames in mine inspire,
Not to thee but Her I'le sue,
That disdains both me and you.