Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
John Dryden. 16311700400. Ah, how sweet it is to love!
AH, how sweet it is to love! | |
Ah, how gay is young Desire! | |
And what pleasing pains we prove | |
When we first approach Love’s fire! | |
Pains of love be sweeter far | 5 |
Than all other pleasures are. | |
Sighs which are from lovers blown | |
Do but gently heave the heart: | |
Ev’n the tears they shed alone | |
Cure, like trickling balm, their smart: | 10 |
Lovers, when they lose their breath, | |
Bleed away in easy death. | |
Love and Time with reverence use, | |
Treat them like a parting friend; | |
Nor the golden gifts refuse | 15 |
Which in youth sincere they send: | |
For each year their price is more, | |
And they less simple than before. | |
Love, like spring-tides full and high, | |
Swells in every youthful vein; | 20 |
But each tide does less supply, | |
Till they quite shrink in again: | |
If a flow in age appear, | |
‘Tis but rain, and runs not clear. |