Come again: sweet love doth now invite,Thy graces that refrain,To do me due delight,To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,With thee again in sweetest sympathy.
They sin who tell us love can die;With life all other passions fly,All others are but vanity.. . . . .Love is indestructible,Its holy flame forever burneth;From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.. . . . .It soweth here with toil and care,But the harvest-time of love is there.Robert Southey