Classic Poem

When Myrrha views me with disdain
My blood congeals, and ev'ry vein
With anguish shrinks, while wretched I
Beneath the mighty torment die.

But when the kind, consenting maid,
With eyes relenting, arms display'd,
Meeting, sooths me to her breast,
I glow, I burn, and am possest
Of joy too great to be express'd.