They vanish, when love's fires decay.
For to fulfil thy promise fair,
What hours thou hast the whole day long,
What chances on the open road,
Or in the house when bolts are strong.
O God! but what a thought is this?
I strangle, in the sudden thrall
Of this sharp pang of agony,
Oh, hold me, Tarfe, lest I fall."
Thus Adelifa weeping cried