69.
From beauteous lips compell’d to part, and carried
Away from beauteous arms fast clasp’d around me,
Yet one more day I gladly would have tarried,
When came the post-boy with his steeds, and found me.
Child, this is very life, an endless wailing,
An endless farewell-taking, endless parting;
Is then thy heart to clasp mine unavailing?
Could not thine eye retain me, e’en at starting?