Classic Poem

And is it night? are they thine eyes that shine?
Are we alone, and here? and here, alone?
May I come near, may I but touch thy shrine?
Is jealousy asleep, and is he gone?
O Gods, no more! silence my lips with thine!
Lips, kisses, joys, hap,--blessings most divine!

Oh, come, my dear! Our griefs are turned to night,
And night to joys; night blinds pale envy's eyes;
Silence and sleep prepare us our delight;
Oh, cease we then our woes, our griefs, our cries:
Oh, vanish words! words do but passions move;
O dearest life! joy's sweet! O sweetest love!