Clarastella Together with Poems occasional, Elegies, Epigrams, Satyrs. By Robert Heath |
The Farewel to Clarastella.
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Clarastella | ||
52
The Farewel to Clarastella.
Passion o' me! why melt I thus with griefe
For her whose frozen heart denies reliefe?
Find out some other way to punish me
Yee Gods! and let me not the Author be
Of mine own death! make me forget that e'r
I lov'd! at least that e'r I loved her!
For her whose frozen heart denies reliefe?
Find out some other way to punish me
Yee Gods! and let me not the Author be
Of mine own death! make me forget that e'r
I lov'd! at least that e'r I loved her!
Yet I must love her stil: O cruel Fate!
That dost true love so il requite with hate!
Why e'r I saw her didst not make me blind?
Then had she as before continued kind
Without pow'r to displease, her Charitie
Warm as my Love, and I had stil been I:
But now alas! my distant bliss I see,
Which like my courted shadow flieth mee
As fast as I pursue: ay mee! she's gone,
And with her all my winged hopes are flown.
That dost true love so il requite with hate!
Why e'r I saw her didst not make me blind?
Then had she as before continued kind
Without pow'r to displease, her Charitie
Warm as my Love, and I had stil been I:
But now alas! my distant bliss I see,
Which like my courted shadow flieth mee
As fast as I pursue: ay mee! she's gone,
And with her all my winged hopes are flown.
But oh! if you one drop of mercy have,
Let me request you shed it at my grave
When y'hear I died for you! Oh let there be
One tear at least shed from your pious eies
In mem'ry that I fel your sacrifice!
Where though I cannot, yet my marble wil
'Gainst these soft show'rs for me some tears distil.
Let me request you shed it at my grave
When y'hear I died for you! Oh let there be
One tear at least shed from your pious eies
In mem'ry that I fel your sacrifice!
Where though I cannot, yet my marble wil
'Gainst these soft show'rs for me some tears distil.
Fairest farewel! and by my living love,
Maist thou to me when dead thus loving prove!
Shed from your eies perhaps one faithful tear
May make my ashes quick again, how e'r
My shipwrackt love in these drops bath'd, at last
May drowning grasp what's next, and hold thee fast,
Which whilst I liv'd it could not; thus I wil
Alive and dead (my Stella!) love thee stil.
Maist thou to me when dead thus loving prove!
Shed from your eies perhaps one faithful tear
May make my ashes quick again, how e'r
My shipwrackt love in these drops bath'd, at last
May drowning grasp what's next, and hold thee fast,
Which whilst I liv'd it could not; thus I wil
Alive and dead (my Stella!) love thee stil.
Clarastella | ||