Wilt thou go? Thou 'It come again?
Swear it, love, by Love's sweet pain!
Swear it, by the stars that glisten
In thy brow, as thou dost listen!
Swear it, by the love-sick air,
Wandering, murmuring, here and there;
Seeking for some tender nest,
Yet, like thee, can never rest.
Swear! — and I shall safer be
Amidst Love's sweet mutiny!