Impious love, that, spurning duty,
Spurning nature's chastest ties,
Mocks thy tears, dejected beauty,
Sports with fallen virtue's sighs.
Call it love no more, profaning
Truth with dark suspicion's wound;
Or, if still the term retaining,
Change the sense, preserve the sound.
Yes, 'tis love, that name is given,
Angels, to your purest flames;