A Song

	Absent from thee I languish still;
	Then ask me not when I return.
	The straying fool ’twill plainly kill
	To wish all day, all night to mourn.
5	Dear, from thine arms then let me fly,
	That my fantastic mind may prove
	The torments it deserves to try
	That tears my fixed heart from my love.
	When wearied with a world of woe
10	To thy safe bosom I retire
	Where love and peace and truth does flow,
	May I contented there expire,
	Lest, once more wandering from that heaven,
	I fall on some base heart unblest,
15	Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven,
	And lose my everlasting rest.