Classic Poem

Fair Ladies, pity an unhappy Maid,
By Fortune, and by faithless Love betray'd.
Innocent once. — I scarce knew how to sin,
Till that unlucky Devil entring in,
Did all my Honour, all my Faith undo:
Love ! like Ambition , makes us Rebels too:
And of all Treasons, mine was most accurst;
Rebelling 'gainst a King and Father first.
A Sin, which Heav'n nor Man can e're forgive;
Nor could I Act it with the face to live.
My Dagger did my Honours cause redress;
But Oh! my blushing Ghost must needs confess,
Had my young Charming Lover faithful been,
I fear I'd dy'd with unrepented Sin.
There's nothing can my Reputation save
With all the True , the Loyal and the Brave ;
Not my Remorse, or Death, can expiate
With them a Treason gainst the KING and State .
Some Love-sick Maid perhaps, now I am gone,
(Raging with Love, and by that Love undone,)
May form some little Argument for me,
T' excuse m' Ingratitude and Treachery .
Some of the Sparks too, that infect the Pit ,
(Whose Honesty is equal to their Wit,
And think Rebellion but a petty Crime,
Can turn to all sides Int'rest does incline,)
May cry " I gad I think the Wench is wise;
" Had it prov'd Lucky, 'twas the way to rise.
" She had a Roman Spirit, that disdains
" Dull Loyalty, and the Yoke of Sovereigns.
" A Pox of Fathers, and Reproach to come;
" She was the first and Noblest Whig of Rome".
But may that Ghost in quiet never rest,
Who thinks it self with Traytors Praises blest.