Oh! the Sickening Sensation!

Oh! the sickening sensation!--
Oh! the burning agitation
In my soul!
Oh! the awful desolation
Of my soul!
And my breast is sore with sighing.
Comfort to myself denying--
Comfort and relief denying to my soul distrest and sore;
While that worst of all diseases
With a pain that naught appeases
Ever burns--
While a pain that grimly pleases
Alway burns,
Kindled by thy bright eye's beaming,
By thy brilliant, blue eye's beaming,
When I saw thee, saw and loved thee on that fatal eve of yore;
And anon it has been living,
And a blissful sadness giving
While with thee,--
Mingled bliss and sadness giving
While with thee;
But, ah! now its woful waging,
Laying waste with cruel raging
This my heart, as with a vulture gnawing at its very core!
Would kind angels waft me to thee!--
Waft me for one moment to thee!
Let me gaze one moment on thee!--
But one blissful moment on thee!--
Satisfy this languid longing for the one whom I adore!
Oh! to quench this lethal longing for the one whom I adore!