If, on the last, or any day before,
Of my brief course on earth, I did amiss,
Say it at once, and let me be unblest;
But, O my faultless father! why should you?
And shun so my embraces?
Am I wild
And wandering in my fondness?
We are shades!!
Groan not thus deeply; blight not thus the season
Of full orbed gladness! Shades we are indeed,