Classic Poem

Ah false Amyntas, can that hour
So soon forgotten be,
When first I yielded up my power
To be betrayed by thee?
God knows with how much innocence
I did my heart resign,
Unto thy faithless eloquence,
And gave thee what was mine.

I had not one reserve in store,
But at thy feet I laid
Those arms which conquered heretofore,
Though now thy trophies made.
Thy eyes in silence told their tale,
Of love in such a way,
That 'twas as easy to prevail,
As after to betray.