Who is to that dear heart a stranger,
And with those matchless looks of thine
The peace of this poor youth endanger? 20
Away this fear that fancy makes,
When night and death’s dull image hide thee!
In sleep, to thee my mind awakes;
Awake, it sleeps to all beside thee.
Who could in absence bear the pain
Of all this fierce and jealous feeling,
But for the hope to meet again,