LXXXII
Reading edition
COLD heart, that hath not felt some passing pain; Some aching or desire to be together; To wander hand in hand through heath or heather; Or something that doth move the simple swain! Were there not some possession thus to gain Of love, or lover’s wint’ry gale to weather, As we do follow life, I know not whether ’Twould be not best from living to abstain. Then dead is he who hath not felt this joy, This joy and sorrow mingled in his soul; To seek for love, and feel its kindling flame, That doth old age and youth at once annoy, Yet holy treasures toward their threshold roll; For lovers’ tears and smiles are oft the same.