University of Virginia Library


264

THE DESPAIRING LOVER.

Say, Delia, since that iron heart
Forbids me more to woo,
What deed, to cure the rankling smart,
Should scorned lovers do?
I'll do—what desperate act will move
That stubborn bosom most?
I'll do—ah! grant me power, O! love,
To execute the boast!
I'll do—then drop one willing tear,
Nor cast cold looks about you—
Yes—I'm resolv'd—too cruel fair,
I'll do—I'll do without you.