Classic Poem

Thou know'st, Licinius, yesterday,
To pass our leisure hours away,
We both upon my tablets writ
Our flashes of amusive wit;
To this, to that, we chang'd the strain,
As mirth, and wine inspir'd our vein:
But, o! I found, when forc'd to part,
Thy jesting had so won my heart;
That food to me was nauseous grown,
And sleep my watchful eyes had flown;
Restless, and sad I pass'd the night,
Wishing once more to view the light;
That I my visit might repeat,
And dwell on sounds so silver sweet:
But, as my wearied limbs were laid,
Half lifeless, on my hated bed;
I wrote these lines, which might reveal
The grief I from thy absence feel.
Then, o, sweet friend, thy pride refrain;
Nor let my suit incur disdain;
Lest Nemesis my wrongs repair;
To rouze that angry pow'r forbear.