John Dryden




Farewell, Fair Armida. A Song

Farewell, fair Armida, my joy and my grief! 
In vain I have loved you, and hope no relief; 
Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe, 
Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair: 
Now called by my honour, I seek with content 
The fate which in pity you would not prevent: 
To languish in love were to find, by delay, 
A death that's more welcome the speediest way. 
On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire, 
The danger is less than in hopeless desire; 
My death's wound you give me, though far off I bear 
My fall from your sight—not to cost you a tear: 
But if the kind flood on a wave should convey, 
And under your window my body should lay, 
The wound on my breast when you happen to see, 
You'll say with a sigh—it was given by me.