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Poems

by Thomas Stanley
 

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To his Mistresse in Absence.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


38

To his Mistresse in Absence.

[_]

Tasso.

Far from thy dearest self, (the Scope
Of all my Aims)
I waste in secret Flames;
And onely live because I hope.
O when will Fate restore
The Joyes, in whose bright fire
My Expectation shall expire,
That I may live because I hope no more!