From Antoinette Deshoulières
I cannot seem to pass a day
Without remembering the pastor whom I treasure
And when I think of him, an utmost pleasure
Comes to increase the zeal I feel for his return.
Sad Obligations (whom I shall not gainsay)
For that return, alas, do you have no concern?
If thinking of it is enough
To drive me through such fancies into madness,
Then when I’ll see my love
What could not come from such a gladness?