by Edmund Waller (1608 - 1687)

The self banished
Language: English 
It is not that I love you less
    Than when before your feet I lay:
But to prevent the sad increase
    Of hopeless love, I keep away.

In vain! (alas!) for ev'ry thing
    Which I have known belong1 to you,
Your form does to my fancy bring,
    And makes my old wounds bleed anew.

Who in the Spring from the new Sun
    Already has a fever got,
Too late begins those shafts to shun,
    Which Phoebus through his veins has shot.

Too late he would the pain assuage,
    And to shadows thick he doth retire;
About with him he bears the [rage]2,
    And in his tainted blood the fire.3

But vow'd I have, and never must
    Your banish'd servant trouble you;
For if I break, you may [distrust]4
    The vow I made to love you, too.

J. Blow sets stanzas 1-2

View original text (without footnotes)
1 [sic]
2 Elgar: "pain"
3 Elgar here adds
Absence is vain for ev'ry thing
    That I have known belong to you,
Your form does to my fancy bring,
    And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
4 Elgar: "mistrust"

Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2009-02-07
Line count: 20
Word count: 136