Classic Poem

You were a foolish, though an amorous fellow,
Leander — had you for a boat but waited
Death and the devil might have both been cheated
And history have been spared the pains to tell how
A silly youth was drowned! — You might have gone
Dry-footed to your mistress, and have kissed her
In nuptial joy, — but no! — for driven on
By an impatient passion's gust, you missed her

And died. — A pity that! — In this our Seville
You've not a notion how we cheat the devil;
And run no risk of colds nor disappointments;
True, love may graze us, — but the drowning plan
Is a mistake, which neither oil nor ointments,
Nor wit, nor wisdom, can get over, man.