Classic Poem

When we, in kind embracements, had agreed
To keep a royal banquet on our lips,
How soon have we another feast decreed,
And how, at parting, have we mourned by fits!
Eftsoons, in absence have we wailed much more
Till those void hours of intermission
Were spent, that we might revel as before.
How have we bribed time for expedition!
And when remitted to our former love-plays,
How have we, overweening in delight,
Accused the father sexton of the days
That then with eagle's wings he took his flight.
But now, old man, fly on as swift as thought,
Sith eyes from love, and hope from heart, is wrought.