Classic Poem

Oh wou'd some pitying Pow'r inlarge my View!
And teach me what to shun, and what pursue:
Love! prompts me forward, thro'a foreign Way,
But Tyrant Duty still commands my Stay:
Duty's a Guardian, which I must not lose;
Yet such a lambent Flame, who can refuse?
A Love so pure! so perfect! so intense!
So truly free from all Alloys of Sense,
As ev'n by dying Nuns might be confest,
And centre boldly in an Angel's Breast:
To keep this Love, I could my Life forego;
But losing it, I shall my Duty show.
Just Heav'n! instruct me, what thou dost require.
And either crown, or else correct Desire.