John Dryden(1631–1700)
Song from Troilus and Cressida
C a n life be a blessing,
Or worth the p o s s e s s i n g ,
C a n life be a blessing, if love were away
Ah, no! t h o u g h our love all night k e e p us waking,
A n d t h o u g h he4 t o r m e n t us with cares all the day,
Yet he s w e e t e n s , he s w e e t e n s our pains in the taking;
T h e r e ' s an h o u r at the last, there's an h o u r to repay.
In every p o s s e s s i n g
T h e ravishing blessing,
In every possessing the fruit of our pain,
P o o r lovers forget long ages of a n g u i s h ,
W h a t e ' e r they have s u f f e r e d a n d d o n e to obtain;
'Tis a p l e a s u r e , a p l e a s u r e to sigh a n d to languish,
W h e n we hope, w h e n we h o p e to be h a p p y again.