Shall I love again, and try
If I still must love to lose,
And make weak mortality
Give new birth unto my woes?
No, let me ever live from Love's enclosing,
Rather than love to live in fear of losing.
One whom hasty Nature gives
To the world without his sight,
Not so discontented lives,
As a man deprived of light;
'Tis knowledge that gives vigour to our woe,
And not the want but loss that pains us so.
With the Arabian bird then be
Both the lover and beloved;
Be thy lines thy progeny
By some gracious fair approved;
So may'st thou live, and be beloved of many,
Without the fear of loss or want of any.