Classic Poem

O Mother Eve , sure 't was a fault
So wild a Rule to give,
E're there were any to be taught,
Or any to deceive.
'Twas ill to ruine all thy Off-spring so,
E're they were yet in Embrio ,
Great mischeifs did attend thy easie will,
For all thy Sons (which usually are
The Mothers care)
For ever lost, and ruin'd were,
By thy instructing thy fair Daughters ill.

What's he that dares his own fond choice approve
Or be secure his spouse is chast;
Or if she be, that it will last,
Yet all must love.
Oh cruel Nature that does force our wills
T' embrace those necessary ills!
Oh negligent, and treacherous eyes,
Given to man for true and faithful spies;
How oft do you betray your trust,
And joyn'd Confederate with our lust,
Tell us that Beauty is, which is but flesh, that flesh but Dust.