A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | ||
SONG.
Written in the Year 1733. By the Same.
[The heavy hours are almost past]
I
The heavy hours are almost pastThat part my Love and me;
My longing eyes may hope at last,
Their only wish to see.
48
II
But how, my Delia, will you meetThe man you've lost so long?
Will Love in all your pulses beat,
And tremble on your tongue?
III
Will you in every look declareYour heart is still the same?
And heal each idly anxious care
Our fears in absence frame?
IV
Thus, Delia, thus I paint the scene,When shortly we shall meet,
And try what yet remains between
Of loit'ring time to cheat.
V
But if the dream that sooths my mindShall false and groundless prove;
If I am doom'd at length to find
You have forgot to love;
VI
All I of Venus ask, is this;No more to let us join;
But grant me here the flatt'ring bliss,
To Die and Think you mine.
A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | ||