Classic Poem

I go to the Elysian shades
Where sorrow ne'er shall wound me;
Where nothing shall my rest invade,
But joy shall still surround me.
I fly from Celia's cold disdain,
From her disdain I fly;
She is the cause of all my pain,
For her alone I die.
Her eyes are brighter than the mid-day sun,
When he but half his radiant course has run,
When his meridian glories gaily shine,
And gild all nature with a warmth divine.
See yonder river's flowing tide,
Which now so full appears,
Those streams that do so sweetly glide
Are nothing but my tears.
There have I wept till I could weep no more,
And curst mine eyes when they have shed their store;
Then, like the clouds that rob the azure main,
I've drain'd the flood to weep it back again.
Pity my pains,
Ye gentle swains.
Cover me with ice and snow,
I scorch, I burn, I flame, I glow;
Furies tear me,
Quickly bear me
To the dismal shades below,
Where yelling and howling,
And grumbling and growling,
Strike our ears with horrid woe.
Hissing snakes,
Fiery lakes,
Were a pleasure and a cure;
Not all the hills
Where Pluto dwells
Can give such pains as I endure.
To some peaceful plain convey me,
Fan me with ambrosial breeze!
Let me die, and so have ease!