To Colindra
Love without Hope is like Breath without Air,
An impossible Joy, a ridiculous Care;
Yet Cupid, like Alchimy runs us a-ground,
In quest of Projection which never was found:
And tho' numberless Ruins around you may view,
Yet so pleasing's the Madness, their Steps you pursue.
An impossible Joy, a ridiculous Care;
Yet Cupid, like Alchimy runs us a-ground,
In quest of Projection which never was found:
And tho' numberless Ruins around you may view,
Yet so pleasing's the Madness, their Steps you pursue.
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