To a Lady, desiring a Visit

I Am unwel, and my Desease you know,
For who could e'er see you, and not be so?
Like light'ning Flashes your bright glances flew,
To blast my Sight, when I but look'd at you.
Yet wonder not that I should now desire
To see again, and so renew the Fire.
Thus, Men in Feavers, scorch'd, and raving lie,
And beg for Drink, tho' if they Drink, they die.
Thus, the Rash Semele entreated Jove,
For Flames, much fiercer than the Flames of Love,
Yet, like Achilles Launce, your Eyes are found,
For, they can cure, what they themselves did wound.
Come then, fair Charmer, like the breaking Day,
And drive my ills, those Cloudy mists away.
All pains, — but Love's, will from thy Presence run,
Like flying shades, from the approaching Sun.