Classic Poem

Ah ! bow to music, bow my lays
To beauty's noblest art!
To reach the bosom mine the praise,
But thine to melt the heart.

'Tis mine to close Affliction's wounds,
To brighten Pleasure's eye:
But thine, by sweet dissolving sounds,
To make it bliss to die.

My notes but kindle cold desire,
Ah! what you feel for me!
Diviner passions thine inspire,
Ah! what I feel for thee!

Associate then thy voice, thy touch,
O wed to mine thy pow'rs!
Be such at least, nor blush at such,
Connubial union our's!