IV.
Disdain is death, and doubt o'erturns
The patience of the firmest mind;
But, jealousy still fiercer burns,
Like all the flames of hell combin'd.
The horrors of that cursed fiend,
In absence to distraction rage,
And all the succour hope can lend,
The direful pangs will not assuage.
Such agonies will surely kill;
Yet, 'spite of absence, doubts, and scorn,
I live a miracle, and still
Those deadly flames within me burn!
V.
Hope's shadow ne'er refresh'd my view,
Despair attends with wakeful strife;
The first let happier swains pursue,
The last my comfort is for life.
Can hope and fear at once prevail,
When fear on certainty is fed?
To shut mine eyes will not avail,
When thunder bursts around my head.
When cold disdain in native dye,
Appears, and falsehood's cunning lore
Perverts the tale of truth, shall I
Against despondence shut the door?
VI.
O jealousy! love's tyrant lord,
And thou soul-chilling, dire disdain!
Lend me the dagger and the cord,
To stab remembrance, strangle pain.
I die bereft of hope in death,
Yet still those are the freest souls,
(I'll vouch it with my latest breath)
Whom love's old tyranny controls.
