Classic Poem

C A l back (bright Phaebus ) your sky-wandring steeds;
Your day is tedious, and our sorrow needs
No Sun: when our sad soules have lost their light
Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night?
Goe to the nether world, and let your rayes
Shine there: Bestow on them our share of dayes;
But say not, Why: lest when report shall show
Such cause of griefe, they fall agrieving too,
And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne
Which then must be return'd on us againe,
Deare Phaebus grant my suit; if thou deny 't,
My teares shall blind me and so make a night.