William Drummond - Poems: The First Part XXXIV lyrics

O cruel beauty, meekness inhumane, That night and day contend with my desire, And seek my hope to k**, not quench my fire, By d**h, not balm, to ease my pleasant pain; Though ye my thoughts tread down which would aspire, And bound my bliss, do not, alas! disdain That I your matchless worth and grace admire, And for their cause these torments sharp sustain. Let great Empedocles vaunt of his d**h, Found in the midst of those Sicilian flames, And Phaëthon, that heaven him reft of breath, And Dædal's son, he nam'd the Samian streams: Their haps I envy not; my praise shall be, The fairest she that liv'd gave d**h to me.