Classic Poem

Bid all profane away;
None here may stay
To view our mysteries
But who themselves have been,
Or will in time be seen,
The self-same sacrifice.
For Union, mistress of these rites
Will be observed with eyes
As simple as her nights.
CHORUS

Fly then, all profane, away,
Fly far off, as hath the day;
Night her curtain doth display,
And this is Hymen's holiday.
(from Masque of Hymen)