Classic Poem

To melancholy Thoughts a Prey,
With Love and Grief opprest;
To Peace a Stranger all the Day,
And all the Night to rest.

For thee, disdainful Fair, I pine,
And wake the tender Sigh;
By that obdurate Heart of thine,
My balmy Blessings fly.

O look to yon celestial Sphere,
Where Souls in Rapture glow,
And dread to want that Mercy there
Which you refus'd below.