Classic Poem

Torment of absence and delay,
That thus afflicts my memory,
Why do'st thou kill me every day,
Yet will not give me leave to dye?

Why dost thou suffer me to live?
All hope of life in life denying?
Or to my patience tortures give,
Never to dye, yet ever dying?

To faire Narcissa's brighter eyes,
I was by loves instruction guided,
A happinesse I long did prize,
But now am from their light divided.

Favours and gifts my sute obtain'd,
But envious Fate would now destroy them;
Which if to lose I only gain'd,
What greater paine then to enjoy them?