The phantom flies me, as unkind as you. I call aloud; it hears not what I say; I stretch my empty arms; it glides away: To dream once more I close my willing eyes; Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise! 240 Alas no more!— methinks we wandring go Thro...
The Works of Alexander Pope, Esq: Translations and imitations - Page 33
by Alexander Pope - 1752
Full view -