Seiz’d all my heart, and play’d the tyrant there.
How did those eyes with soften’d lustre shine,
Thought unexpress’d, and sympathy divine?
While still the hope within my bosom grew;
Vain hope!——to live for happiness and you.
Some swain more blest has taught thy breast to glow,
But who can soothe the wretched Arouet’s woe?
Ah! think not absence can afford a cure,
To the sharp woes, the sorrows I endure:
Amanda, no! ’twill but augment distress