Distance

O! How distance makes thy beauty sweet,
And the bleeding of despair I meet
Is an odd pleasure to hold dear.
Though the deepest flags I fear
Have in crimson risen
From the remorse thou hast given
Tie me to a desired tear
That drenches a soul in melancholy
Most exquisite and unholy.

To remove thy spirit is to deny
The treasure that yet pierces mine eye:
A light that feeds like unto the sun
The crystal fields where love's bright rivers run.
O! Faraway spirit fair
Canst thou bleed this despair
With leeches of assurance
From those rose-bedight currents?
Thy response a blessed fantasy
That may free me
From so swift an eternity.