The Joys We Dote Upon

John Norris (1657-1711), The Parting, IV.-VI.:

        How fading are the Joys we dote upon,
        Like Apparitions seen and gone:
        But those which soonest take their flight,
        Are the most exquisite and strong,
        Like Angels visits, short and bright;
        Mortality's too weak to bear them long.

        No pleasure certainly is so divine
        As when two Souls in Love combine:
        He has the substance of all bliss,
        To whom a Vertuous Friend is given,
        So sweet harmonious Friendship is,
        Add but Eternity, you'll make it Heaven.

        The Minutes in your conversation spent
        Were Festivals of true content.
        Here, here, an Ark of pleasing rest,
        My Soul had found that restless Dove,
        My present State methought was best,
        I envy'd none below, scarce those above.