Classic Poem

Kind relief in all my pain,
Jolly Bacchus! hear my pray'r,
Vengeance on the' ungrateful fair!
In thy smiling cordial bowl
Drown the sorrows of my soul;
All thy deity employ,
Gild each gloomy thought with joy.
Jolly Bacchus! save, oh! save
From the deep devouring grave
A poor despairing dying swain.
Haste away,
Haste away,
Lash thy tigers, do not stay
I'm undone if thou delay
If I view those eyes once more,
Still shall love and still adore,
And be more wretched than before.
See the glory round her face!
See her move!
With what a grace!
Ye Gods above!
Is she not one of your immortal race?
Fly, ye winged Cupids! fly,
Dart like lightning through the sky:
Would ye in marble temples dwell,
The dear one to my arms compel;
Bring her in bands of myrtle tied;
Bid her forget, and bid her hide
All her scorn and all her pride.
Would ye that your slave repay
A smoking hecatomb each day?
O restore
The beauteous Goddess I adore!
O restore, with all her charms,
The faithless vagrant to my arms!