Matthew Prior (1664–1721)

IF wine and music have the power,

To ease the sickness of the soul,

Let Phœbus every string explore,

And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl.

Let them their friendly aid employ,

To make my Chloe’s absence light,

And seek for pleasure, to destroy

The sorrows of this live-long night.

But she to-morrow will return:

Venus, be thou to-morrow great;

Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn,

And meet thy favourite nymph in state.

Kind goddess, to no other powers

Let us to-morrow’s blessings own:

Thy darling loves shall guide the hours,

And all the day be thine alone.