All-over, Love.
1
'Tis well, 'tis well with them (say I)
Whose short-liv'd Passions with themselves can dye:
For none can be unhappy, who
'Midst all his ills a time does know
(Though ne're so long) when he shall not be so.
2
What ever parts of Me remain,
Those parts will still the Love of thee retain;
For 'twas not only in my Heart,
But like a God by pow'rful Art,
'Twas all in all, and all in every Part.
3
My 'Affection no more perish can
Than the First Matter that compounds a Man.
Hereafter if one Dust of Me
Mixt with anothers substance be,
'Twill Leaven that whole Lump with Love of Thee.
4
Let Nature if she please disperse
My Atoms over all the Universe,
At the last they easi'ly shall
Themselves know, and together call;
For thy Love, like a Mark, is stamp'd on all.
