Some kind angel, gently flying,
Moved with pity at my pain,
Tell Corinna I am dying
Till with joy we meet again.
Tell Corinna, since we parted
I have never known delight,
And shall soon be broken-hearted
If I longer want her sight.
Tell her how her lover, mourning,
Thinks each lazy day a year,
Cursing every morn returning,
Since Corinna is not here.
Tell her, too, not distant places,
Will she be but true and kind,
Join'd with time and change of faces,
E'er shall shake my constant mind.
More verses by Matthew Prior
- Paulo Purganti And His Wife: An Honest, But A Simple Pair
- Upon Honour. A Fragment.
- The Old Gentry
- Seeing The Duke Of Ormond's Picture, At Sir Godfrey Kneller's
- Charity : A Paraphrase On 1 Cor. Chap. 13
