William Drummond - Poems: The First L lyrics

How many times night's silent queen her face Hath hid, how oft with stars in silver mask In Heaven's great hall she hath begun her task, And cheer'd the waking eye in lower place! How oft the sun hath made by Heaven's swift race The happy lover to forsake the breast Of his dear lady, wishing in the west His golden coach to run had larger space! I ever count, and number, since, alas! I bade farewell to my heart's dearest guest; The miles I compa**, and in mind I chase The floods and mountains hold me from my rest: But, woe is me! long count and count may I, Ere I see her whose absence makes me die.