Classic Poem

O pow'rful Love! what Wonders canst thou do?
Not the vast Ætber's Space between,
Or num'rous Worlds which intervene,
Can shade her from my View.
Absent from Earth, but persent to my Mind,
Her lov'd Remembrance fills my Breast:
Whether I sleep, or wake, I'm sure to find,
In her bright Form, an intellectual Feast.
Methinks I see her beauteous Face,
Serene, compos'd, and kind,
Adorn'd with ev'ry Native Grace,
Expressive Index of her brighter Mind:
With mental Looks I still pursue
The dear Idea, till the Night
Shuts up my Eyes in Sleep, and clouds the charming Sight:
Then lively Dreams restore the pleasing Scene,
The daily Vision's acted o'er again,
And Repetition heightens the Delight:
'Till struck with Horrour, and amazing Fear,
I see grim Death appear,
Advancing closely to secure his Prey;
And with insidious Grasp, to steal the Prize away.