Could I recall departed joy, Though barred the hopes of greater gain, Or now the future hours employ That must succeed my present pain.
All fortune's blessings disappear, She's fickle as the wind; And now I find her as severe As once I thought her kind. How soon the fleeting pleasures passed! How long the lingering sorrows last! Unconstant goddess, in thy haste, Do not thy prostrate slave destroy, I'd ne'er complain, but bless my fate, _Could I recall departed joy._
Of all thy gifts I beg but this, Glut all mankind with more, Transport them with redoubled bliss, But only mine restore. With thought of pleasure once possessed, I'm now as cursed as I was blessed: Oh, would the charming hours return, How pleased I'd live, how free from pain, I ne'er would pine, I ne'er would mourn. _Though barred the hopes of greater gain._
But oh, the blessing I implore Not fate itself can give! Since time elapsed exists no more, No power can bid it live. Our days soon vanish into naught, And have no being but in thought. Whate'er began must end at last, In vain we twice would youth enjoy, In vain would we recall the past, _Or now the future hours employ._
Deceived by hope, and racked by fear, No longer life can please; I'll then no more its torments bear, Since death so soon can ease. This hour I'll die--but, let me pause-- A rising doubt my courage awes. Assist, ye powers that rule my fate, Alarm my thoughts, my rage restrain, Convince my soul there's yet a state _That must succeed my present pain._
O Flattery, how potent is thy sway! How wide the bounds of thy pleasing jurisdiction!
The nymph who Pyramus with love inspired Pierces the wall, with equal passion fired: Cupid from distant Cyprus thither flies, And views the secret breach with laughing eyes.
Here silence, vocal, mutual vows conveys, And whispering eloquent, their love betrays: Though chained by fear, their voices dare not pass, Their souls, transmitted through the chink, embrace.
Ah, woful story of disastrous love! Ill-fated haste that did their ruin prove! One death, one grave, unite the faithful pair, And in one common fame their memories share.
No parents can see the deformity of their own children, and still stronger is this self-deception with respect to the offspring of the mind.
