html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Ah! Celia, that I were but sure,
Thy Love, like mine, cou'd still endure;
That Time and Absence, which destroy
The Cares of Lovers, and their Joy,
Cou'd never rob me of that part
Which you have giv'n me of your Heart;
Others unenvy'd might possess
Whole Hearts, and boast that Happiness.
'Twas Nobler Fortune to divide
The Roman Empire in her Pride,
Than on some low and barb'rous Throne,
Obscurely plac'd, to rule alone.
Love only from thy Heart exacts
The several Debts thy Face contracts,
And by that new and juster way,
Secures thy Empire and his sway;
Fav'ring but one, he might compel
The hopeless Lover to rebel.
But shou'd he other Hearts thus share,
That in the whole so worthless are,
Shou'd into several Squadrons draw
That strength, which kept entire cou'd awe,
Men would his scatter'd Powers deride,
And conqu'ring Him those spoils divide.