Classic Poem

(They sing all)

Sing to Apollo, god of day,
Whose golden beams with morning play,
And make her eyes so brightly shine,
Aurora's face is called divine.
Sing to Phaebus and that throne
Of diamonds which he sits upon.
Io, paeans let us sing
To Physic's and to Poesy's king.

Crown all his altars with bright fire,
Laurels bind about his lyre;
A Daphnean coronet for his head,
The Muses dance about his bed;
When on his ravishing lute he plays,
Strew his temple round with bays.
Io, paeans let us sing
To the glittering Delian king.