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108
The Complaint.
Night 5.
Yet Thou wast only near me; not myself,
Survive myself?—That cures all other Woe.
Narcissa lives; Philander is forgot.
O the soft Commerce! O the tender Tyes,
Close-twisted with the Fibres of the Heart!
Which, broken, break them; and drain off the Soul
Of Human Joy; and make it Pain to live—
And is it then to live? When such Friends part,
'Tis the Survivor dies—My Heart! no more.
Survive myself?—That cures all other Woe.
Narcissa lives; Philander is forgot.
O the soft Commerce! O the tender Tyes,
Close-twisted with the Fibres of the Heart!
Which, broken, break them; and drain off the Soul
Of Human Joy; and make it Pain to live—
And is it then to live? When such Friends part,
'Tis the Survivor dies—My Heart! no more.
NIGHT
