And why, fair Trifler , does that meaning eye
Smile, in contempt , when lovers swear they die?
'Twixt death , and love , but one small diff'rence lies,
The soul , in both , from its left body flies:
In death , 'tis gone, like smoak , dissolv'd in air,
Lost, in expance, the loser knows not where:
In love , we trace it, with such willing pain ,
'Twere to die twice , to take it back again.