Madness is easier far then hopeless Love.
I parted thus, but knew not what to do;
Nor where I went; nor did I care to know;
With folded Arms, with weeping Eyes declin’d, }
I search the unknown shade, I cou’d not find, }
And mixt my constant Sighs with flying Wind. }
By slow unsteady steps the Paths I trace,
Which undesign’d conduct me to a place
Fit for a Soul distrest; obscur’d with shade,
Lonely and fit for Love and Sorrow made;
The Murmuring Boughs themselves together twist,
And ‘twou’d allow to Grief her self some rest.
Inviron’d ‘tis with lofty Mountains round,
From whence the Eccho’s, Sighs, and Crys rebound;
Here in the midst and thickest of the Wood,
Cover’d with bending Shades a Castle stood,
Where _Absence_ that dejected Maid remains,
Who nothing but her Sorrow entertains.
[5] Duty.
ABSENCE.
_Her mourning languid Eyes are rarely shown,_
_Unless to those afflicted like her own;_
_Her lone Apartment all obscure as Night,_
_Discover’d only by a glimmering Light:_
_Weeping she sate, her Face with Grief dismaid,_
_Which all its natural sweetness has decaid;_
_Yet in despight of Grief there does appear,_ }
_The ruin’d Monuments of what was fair,_ }
_E’r cruel_ Love _and_ Grief _had took possession there._ }
_These made her old without the aid of Years;_ }
_Worn out, and faint with lingring hopes and fears,_ }
_She seldom answers ought but with her Tears._ }
_No Train attends, she only is obey’d_
_By_ Melancholy, _that soft, silent Maid:_
_A Maid that fits her Humour every way,_
_With whom she passes all the tedious day:_
_No other object can her Mind content,_
_She Feeds and Flatters all her languishment;_
_The noisy Streams that from high Mountains fall;_
_And water all the Neighbouring flowry Vale:_
_The Murmurs of the Rivulets that glide,_
_Against the bending Seges on the side;_
_Of mournful Birds the sad and tuneful Noats,_
_The Bleats of straggling Lambs, and new yean’d Goats:_
_The distant Pipe of some lone Mountain Swain,_ }
_Who to his injur’d Passion fits his strain;_ }
_Is all the Harmony her Soul can entertain._ }
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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