Song Of Jealousy, In Love Triumphant.

What state of life can be so blest         As love, that warms a lover's breast?         Two souls in one, the same desire         To grant the bliss, and to require!         But if in heaven a hell we find,         'Tis all from thee,         O Jealousy!         'Tis all from thee,         O Jealousy!         Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,         Thou tyrant of the mind!         All other ills, though sharp they prove,         Serve to refine, and perfect love:         In absence, or unkind disdain,         Sweet hope relieves the lover's pain.         But, ah! no cure but death we find,         To set us free         From Jealousy:         O Jealousy!         Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,         Thou tyrant of the mind!         False in thy glass all objects are,         Some set too near, and some too far;         Thou art the fire of endless night,         The fire that burns, and gives no light.         All torments of the damn'd we find         In only thee,         O Jealousy!         Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy,         Thou tyrant of the mind!