On Delia Bid Adieu My Sad Heart

Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu to thy peace!

Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorrows increase;

See the shadows of evening how far they extend,

And a long night is coming, that never may end;

For the sun is now set that enlivened the scene,

And an age must be past ere it rises again.

Already deprived of its splendour and heat,

I feel thee more slowly, more heavily beat;

Perhaps overstrained with the quick pulse of pleasure,

Thou art glad of this respite to beat at thy leisure;

But the sigh of distress shall now weary thee

Than the flutter and tumult of passion before.

The heart of a lover is never at rest,

With joy overwhelmed, or with sorrow oppressed:

When Delia is near, all is ecstasy then,

And I even forget I must lose her again:

When absent, as wretched as happy before,

Despairing I cry,

I shall see her no more!

Written at Berkhamstead, 1750's.