WEEPING AT PARTING; SONG by THOMAS FLATMAN

I.

Go, gentle Oriana, go,
Thou seest the Gods will have it so;
Alas! alas! 'tis much in vain
Of their ill usage to complain,
To curse them when we want relief,
Lessens our courage, not our grief:
Dear Oriana, wipe thine eye,
The time may come that thou and I
Shall meet again, long, long to prove
What vigour absence adds to love.
Smile, Oriana, then, and let me see
That look again, which stole my liberty.

II.

But say that Oriana die
(And that sad moment may be nigh),
The Gods that for a year can sever,
If it please them, can part us ever;
They that refresh, can make us weep,
And into Death can lengthen sleep.
Kind Oriana, should I hear
The thing I so extremely fear,
'Twill not be strange, if it be said,
After a while, I too am dead.
Weep, Oriana, weep, for who does know
Whether we e'er shall meet again below?

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