Classic Poem

Well, we will do that rigid thing
Which makes Spectators think we part;
Though absence hath for none a sting
But those who keep each other's heart.

And when our Sense is dispossest,
Our labouring Souls will heave and pant,
And gasp for one another's breast
Since their Conveyances they want.

Nay, we have felt the tedious smart
Of absent Friendship, and do know
That when we die we can but part;
And who knows what we shall do now?

Yet I must go: we will submit,
And so our own disposers be;
For while we nobly suffer it,
We triumph o're Necessity.

By this we shall be truly great,
If having other things o'recome,
To make our victory compleat
We can be Conquerors at home.

Nay then to meet we may conclude,
And all Obstructions overthrow,
Since we our Passion have subdu'd,
Which is the strongest thing I know.