Poems By the most deservedly Admired Mrs Katherine Philips: The matchless Orinda. To which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace Tragedies. With several other Translations out of French |
To Mris. M. A. upon Absence.
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Poems | ||
To Mris. M. A. upon Absence.
1
'Tis now since I began to dieFour Months, yet still I gasping live;
Wrapp'd up in sorrow do I lie,
Hoping, yet doubting, a Reprieve.
70
Just such a wretched Being held.
2
'Tis not thy Love I fear to lose,That will in spight of absence hold;
But 'tis the benefit and use
Is lost, as in imprison'd Gold:
Which though the Sum be ne're so great,
Enriches nothing but conceit.
3
What angry Star then governs meThat I must feel a double smart,
Prisoner to fate as well as thee;
Kept from thy face, link'd to thy heart?
Because my Love all love excells,
Must my Grief have no Parallels?
4
Sapless and dead as Winter hereI now remain, and all I see
Copies of my wild state appear,
But I am their Epitome.
Love me no more, for I am grown
Too dead and dull for thee to own.
Poems | ||