Classic Poem

A WAKE , awake, bright Nymph appear,
Give in a Glance my coming Year;
Faint Gleams of Light the Sphere adorn,
Open those Eyes, and help the Morn;
Begon, begon ye Shades away,
Her Curtain draws, and breaks the Day:
Behold the future Minutes strive
Which soonest shall at her arrive:
Some blissful, some afflicted be;
Be those for her, be these for me!
Yet let her so much Sorrow know,
As to conceive her Lovers Woe.
Dear Time into her Breast inspire
Tender Grief and soft Desire:
And if thou hear'st the humble Pray'r
Of Lovers dying in Despair,
On the Wise, and on the Grave,
On the Learned, on the Brave,
Who wou'd Names and Fortunes raise,
Good Time bestow thy Length of Days:
Let Length of Days their Portion be,
But give me Opportunity.