I kiss the pretty Idol, and complain,
As if (like thee) 'twould answer me again.
By thy return, by thy dear self, I swear,
By our Love's vows, which most religious are,
170By thy belovèd head, and those gray hairs
Which time may on it snow in future years,
I come, where'er thy Fate shall bid thee go,
Eternal partner of thy weal and woe,
So thou but live, tho' all the Gods say No.
Farewell,—but prithee very careful be