Classic Poem

Grant me, gentle Love, said I,
One dear Blessing e'er I die;
Long I've born Excess of Pain,
Let me now some Bliss obtain.
Thus to Almighty Love I cry'd,
When angry, thus the God reply'd.
Blessings greater none can have,
Art thou not Amynta 's Slave?
Cease, fond Mortal, to implore,
For Love, Love himself's no more.