And sadly reflecting, That a lover forsaken A new love may get, But a neck when once broken Can never be set. - William Walsh (poet)

But, bold, unconcerned
At thoughts of the pain,
He calmly returned
To his cottage again.

But, mad with his love,
To a precipice goes,
Where a leap from above
Would soon finish his woes.

Of all the torments, all the cares,
With which our lives are curst;
Of all the plagues a lover bears,
Sure rivals are the worst!
By partners in each other kind
Afflictions easier grow;
In love alone we hate to find
Companions of our woe.