html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Hopeless I languish out my Days,
Struck with Urania's Conqu'ring Eyes:
The Wretch at whom she darts these rays,
Must feel the Wound until he dies.
Though endless be her Cruelty,
Calling her Beauties to my Mind,
I bow beneath her Tyranny,
And dare not murmur she's unkind.
Reason this tameness does upbraid,
Proff'ring to arm in my defence;
But when I call her to my aid,
She's more a Traytor than my sense.
No sooner I the War declare,
But strait her succour she denies,
And joyning Forces with the Fair,
Confirms the Conquest of her Eyes.