John Byrom

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

Give me the soft sigh, whilst the soul-telling eye
Is dimm'd for a time with a tear.

A hand may first, and then a lip be kiss'd.

A hand may first, and then a lip be kiss'd.

If that you have a former friend for foe.

If that you have a former friend for foe.

Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.

Despair of all recovery spoils longevity,
And makes men's miseries of alarming brevity.

But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
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But time strips our illusions of their hue,
And one by one in turn some grand mistake
Casts off its bright skin yearly like a snake.