Classic Poem

Dear, why do you say you love,
When indeed you careless prove,
Reason better can digest
Earnest hate, than love in rest.

Wherefore do your smiling eyes
Help your tongue to make sweet lies?
Leave to statesmen tricks of state,
Love doth politicians hate.

You perchance presume to find
Love of some chameleon kind;
But be not deceiv'd my fair,
Love will not be fed on air.

Love's a glutton of his food,
Surfeits make its stomach good,
Love whose diet grows precise,
Sick from some consumption dies.

Then, dear love, let me obtain
That which may true love maintain—
Or, if kind you cannot prove,
Prove true—say you cannot love.