Classic Poem

1

We will not like those men our offerings pay
Who crown the cup, then think they crown the day.
Wee'l make no garlands, nor an Altar build,
Which help not Joy, but ostentation yield.
Where mirth is justly grounded, these wild toys
Do but disturb, and not adorn our Joys.

2

But these shall be my great solemnitys,
Orinda's wishes for Cassandra's bliss
May her content be as unmix'd and pure
As my affection, and like that endure;
And that strong happiness may she still find
Not owing to her fortune, but her mind.

3

May her content and beauty be the same,
And may she know no grief but in the name.
May his and her pleasure and Love be so
Involv'd and growing, that we may not know
Who most affection or most peace engross'd;
Whose Love is strongest, or whose bliss is most.

4

May nothing accidentall e're appeare
But what shall with new bands their souls endeare;
And may they count the houres as they doe pass,
By their own Joys, and not by sun or glass;
While every day like this may sacred prove
To Friendship, duty, gratitude and Love.