Classic Poem

Come heavy souls oppressed with the weight
Of crimes, or pangs, or want of your delight,
Come down in Lethe's sleepy lake,
Whatever makes you ache.
Drink health from poisoned bowls,
Breathe out your cares together with your souls.
Cool Death's a salve
Which all may have,
There's no distinction in the grave;
Lay down your loads before death's iron door,
Sigh, and sigh out, groan once, and groan no more.