William Walsh (poet)

"But, mad with his love, To a precipice goes, Where a leap from above Would soon finish his woes."

"And sadly reflecting, That a lover forsaken A new love may get, But a neck when once broken Can never be set."

"But, bold, unconcerned At thoughts of the pain, He calmly returned To his cottage again."

"Of all the torments, all the cares, With which our lives are curst; Of all the plagues a lover bears, Sure rivals are the worst! By partners in each other kind Afflictions easier grow; In love alone we hate to find Companions of our woe."

"How great soe’er your rigours are, With them alone I’ll cope; I can endure my own despair, But not another’s hope."