And am content to seem but half alive;
Yet can I never from myself conceal
That giving Pleasure is the way to feel.
“Can I be sad, when I behold her mine,
A beauteous maiden with a Soul divine?
Did ever beauty meet the wond’ring Eye,
Perfect as that which shines in Emely?
Does not her Father to our Love consent? 170
Then what [can] damp our joys, or what prevent?
And is she not belov’d, esteem’d of thee?