Classic Poem

I

 'P RA' THEE ! why so angry, sweet?
'Tis in vain
 To dissemble a disdain:
That frown i' th' infancie I'l meet,
And kisse it to a smile again.

II

 In that pretty anger is
Such a grace,
 As Loves fancie would embrace,
As to new crimes may youth entice,
So that disguise becomes that face.

III

 When thy rosie cheek thus checks
My offence,
 I could sin with a pretence;
Through that sweet chiding blush there breaks
So fair, so bright an Innocence.

IV

 Thus your very frowns entrap
My desire
 And enflame mee to admire,
That eies drest in an angry shape
Should kindle, as with amorous fire.