The Frantick Lover
by John André
1193317The Frantick LoverJohn André

"And shall then another embrace thee, my Fair?
Must envy still add to the pangs of despair?
Shall I live to behold the reciprocal bliss?
Death, death, is a refuge, elysium to this!
 
The star of the evening now bids thee retire;
Accurs'd be its orb and extinguish'd its fire!
For it shews me my rival, prepared to invade
Those charms which at once I admired and obey'd...
 
My insolent rival, more proud of his right,
Contemns the sweet office, that soul of delight.
Less tender, he seizes thy lips as his prey,
And all thy dear limbs the rough summons obey.
 
E'en now more licentious -- rash mortal, forbear!
Restrain him, O Venus! Let him, too, despair!
Freeze, freeze the swift streams which now hurry to join,
And curse him with passions unsated like mine.
 
How weak is my rage his fierce joy to controul.
A kiss from thy body shoots life to his soul
Thy frost, too, dissolv'd in one current is run
And all thy keen feelings are blended in one.
 
Thy limbs from his limbs a new warmth shall acquire,
His passions from thine shall redouble their fire,
'Till wreck'd and o'erwhelmed in the storm of delight,
Thine ears lose their hearing, thine eyes lose their sight!
 
Here conquest must pause, tho' it ne'er can be cloy'd,
To view the rich plunder of beauty enjoy'd;
The tresses dishevelled, the bosom display'd,
And the wishes of years in a moment repaid.
 
A thousand soft thoughts in thy fancy combine,
A thousand wild horrors assemble in mine.
Relieve me, kind death, shut the scene from my view,
And save me, oh save me, 'ere madness ensue!"

This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.

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