Above the sunsets of five years ago:
Of my great praise too part should be its own,
Now reckon’d peerless for thy love alone.
68
Away now, lovely Muse, roam and be free:
Our commerce ends for aye, thy task is done:
Tho’ to win thee I left all else unwon,
Thou, whom I most have won, art not for me.
My first desire, thou too foregone must be,
Thou too, O much lamented now, tho’ none