ART thou then absent, O thou dear And only subject of my flame? And these fair objects that appear But shadows of that noble frame, For which I do all other form disclaim? Am I deluded? do I only rave? Was it a phantasme only that I saw? Have dreams such power to deceive? Oh, lovely shade, thou didst too soon withdraw, Like fleecy snow, that as it falls, doth thaw. Glorious illusion! Lovely shade! Once more deceive me with thy light; 'Tis pleasure so to be betray'd, And I for ever shall delight, To be pursu'd by such a charming sprite. |