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Rh I wonder if one died of joy How long would be the dying ? 'Twere better so than bliss should cloy, And smiling turn to sighing. I could not tire, though endless years Should stretch their weight above me ; But other whither reach my fears, If he should cease to love me ! Ah love, dear love ! before that day, Destroy me, dear, I pray thee ; Let Love's last kiss kiss life away, And Love, in dying, slay me.