Tuesday, 20 March 2012
The Relapse
John Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire
Like children in a starry night,
When I beheld those eyes before,
I gaz'd with wonder and delight,
Insensible of all their power.
I play'd about the flame so long,
At last I felt the scorching fire;
My hopes were weak, my passion strong,
And I lay dying with desire.
By all the helps of humane art,
I just recovered so much sense,
As to avoid, with heavy heart,
The fair, but fatal influence.
But, since you shine away despair,
And now my sighs no longer shun,
No Persian in his zealous prayer
So much adores the rising sun.
If once again my vows displease,
There never was so lost a lover;
In love, that languishing disease,
A sad relapse we ne'er recover.