III
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
· (no date)
Published 01/07/1880
Part of To Edward Williams
Therefore, if now I see you seldomer.
Dear friends, dear friend! know that I only fly
Your looks, because they stir
Griefs that should sleep, and hopes that cannot die:
The very comfort that they minister
I scarce can bear, yet I,
So deeply is the arrow gone,
Should quickly perish if it were withdrawn.