Classic Poem

“C OME away! come, sweet love!”
The golden morning breaks:
All the earth, all the air,
Of love and pleasure speaks;
Teach thine arms then to embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss
And mix our souls in mutual bliss:
Eyes were made for beauty's grace
Viewing, ruing, love's long pains
Procured by beauty's rude disdain.

Come away! come, sweet love!
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace, that should arise
Like to the naked morn:
Lilies on the river's side
And fair Cyprian flowers newly blown
Desire no beauties but their own:
Ornament is Nurse of Pride
Pleasure measure, love's delight
Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight.