If with me you'd fondly stray Over the hills and far away.

The charge is prepared; the lawyers are met; The judges all ranged (a terrible show!) I go, undismay'd. For death is a debt, A debt on demand. So take what I owe.

Variety's the source of joy below, From whence still fresh-revolving pleasures flow, In books and love the mind one end pursues, And only change the expiring flames renews.

One common fate we both must prove; You die with envy, I with love.

Follow love and it will flee, flee love and it will follow thee.

The sun was set; the night came on apace, And falling dews bewet around the place; The bat takes airy rounds on leathern wings, And the hoarse owl his woeful dirges sings.

But his kiss was so sweet, and so closely he pressed, that I languished and pined till I granted the rest.