Nor heartless question, cold reply,
Speak—“all is past; I love you not.”
Too much has heav’n ordain’d of woe,
Too much of groans on earth abounds,
For me to wish one tear to flow
Which brings no balm for sorrow’s wounds.
Love’s moisten’d lid and Friendship’s sigh,
I could not see, I could not hear!
To think “they weep!” more fills mine eye,
And smarts the more each tender tear.