Classic Poem

Divine destroyer, pity me no more,
Or else more pity me;
Give me more love, ah, quickly give me more,
Or else more cruelty!
For left thus as I am,
My heart is ice and flame;
And languishing thus I
Can neither live nor die!

Your glories are eclipsed, and hidden in the grave
Of this indifferency;
And, Celia, you can neither altars have,
Nor I a deity:
They are aspects divine
That still or smile or shine,
Or like th' offended sky
Frown death immediately.