Once more, O come! and snatch me to thy arms!
Come, shield my beating heart from vain alarms!
Come, let me hang enamour'd on thy breast,
Weep pleasing tears, and be with joy distrest!
Let me still hear, and still demand thy tale,
And, oft renew'd, still let my suit prevail!
Much still remains to tell and to enquire,
My hand still writes, and writing prompts desire;
My pen denies my last farewell to write,
Still, still, "return," my wishful thoughts indite:
O! hear, my prince, thy love, thy mistress call,
Think o'er each tender name, and hear by all.
O! pleasing intercourse of soul with soul,
Thus, while I write, I see, I clasp thee whole;
And these kind letters trembling Zara drew,
In every line shall bring her to thy view.
Return, return, in love and truth excell;
Return, I write; I cannot add — Farewell.