Classic Poem

If wine and music have the power
To ease the sickness of the soul;
Let Phaebus every string explore;
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl.
Let them their friendly aid employ,
To make my Cloe's absence light;
And seek for pleasure, to destroy
The sorrows of this live-long night.
But she to-morrow will return;
Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn;
And meet thy fav'rite nymph in state.
Kind goddess, to no other powers
Let us to-morrow's blessings own:
Thy darling loves shall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.