Classic Poem

Charm , O charm, thou god of sleep,
Her fair eyes, that waking mourn;
Frightful visions from her keep,
Such as are by sorrows borne:
But let all the sweets that may
Wait on rest, her thoughts obey.

Fly, Oh fly, thou god of love,
To that breast thy dart did wound,
Draw thy shaft, the smart remove,
Let her wonted joys be found:
Raise up pleasure to a flood,
Never ebbing; new joys bud.