Looking on, and discoursing with his Mistress.

THese full two hours now have I gazing been,
What comfort by it can I gain?
To look on Heav'en with mighty Gulfs between
Was the great Misers greatest pain:
So neer was he to Heavens delight,
As with the blest converse he might,
Yet could not get one drop of water by't.

Ah wretch! I seem to touch her now; but, oh,
What boundless spaces do us part?
Fortune, and Friends, and all earths empty show,
My Lowness, and her high Desert:
But these might conquerable prove;
Nothing does me so far remove,
As her hard Souls aversion from my Love.

So Travellers, that lose their way by night,
If from afar they chance t'espy
Th'uncertain glimmerings of a Tapers light,
Take flattering hopes, and think it nigh;
Till wearied with the fruitless pain,
They sit them down, and weep in vain,
And there in Darkness, and Despair remain.