Classic Poem

Lesbia, live to love and pleasure,
Careless what the grave may say:
When each moment is a treasure,
Why should lovers lose a day?

Setting suns shall rise in glory,
But when little life is o'er,
There's an end of all the story:
We shall sleep; and wake no more.

Give me, then, a thousand kisses,
Twice ten thousand more bestow,
Till the sum of boundless blisses
Neither we, nor envy know.