Classic Poem

Clorinda, when I go away,
What will thy votaries and lovers say?
Will they prize thee,
Or, like me, despise thee?
Their off'rings, or suspend, or pay,
Sure they will the cause enquire;
And, when they shall find
Thou art false and unkind,
Then from thy charmes retire,
Quench their glowing fire,
And neglect thee,
Or reject thee
And their vaine desire.

Then shalt thou all those gifts restore,
Bestowd by those that did thy power adore.
Wee'l devest thee
Of what love possest thee,
Whose wealth thou shalt usurpe no more.
Those bright flames within thine eye,
The flowers that I lent
As thy cheeks ornament,
Shall fade away and dye.
Of thy Deity
Ile bereave thee,
And so leave thee
Poorer farre then I.

Thus, laden with thy spoiles, I'le goe
To some more faire and yet lesse cruell too.
If I find her
Or more true or kinder,
On her thy beauty I'le bestow;
And in this unhappy state,
Whilst we now are free
From thy proud Tyrannie,
Thou shalt perceive too late
Love is above fate,
Can adorne thee,
Or, if scorne thee,
Thus can uncreate.