A Chloris
To Chloris

de Viau

If it’s true, Chloris, you love me,
And I’ve heard it said you do,
All the joys that kings might know
Won’t equal those I feel for you.

Should a visit by ill-timed death
Change my fortune, steal my breath
To find bliss in Olympian skies,
No promised ambrosial delight
Will tempt my sorry appetite
As does the charm within your eyes.