Could I be sure that I should die The moment you had ceased to love me, I would not turn so fearfully From those fond vows with which you move me. Could I be sure, when pa**ion's light Had faded from your eyes away, My own would close in endless night, I would not shun their dangerous ray. 'Tis not your tenderness I dread, But that affection's drear decay; Would fate indulgent strike me dead When its first glow of warmth was fled— I'd live and love you till that day.