The Assignation

George Farquhar
Irish
1677 – 1707

 

The Minute’s past appointed by my Fair,
The Minute’s fled
And leaves me dead
With Anguish and Despair.

My flatter’d Hopes their Flight did make
With the appointed Hour;
None can the Minute’s past o’retake,
And nought my Hopes restore.

Cease your Plaints, and make no Moan,
Thou sad repining Swain;
Although the fleeting Hour be gone,
The Place doe’s still remain.

The Place remains, and she may make
Amends for all your Pain;
Her Presence can past Time o’ertake,
Her Love your Hopes regain.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.