O happiness!--and am I then so blest?
Or does a heavenly dream possess my breast?
Has not her father sternly bid us part,
And for my rival claim'd his daughter's heart?
Has not my Delia sigh'd the sad adieu?
Have I not long been banish'd from her view?
Away, ye jealous fears! ye sorrows, flee!
This letter, this! revokes the dire decree.
And lo! she comes! she comes! but why so slow,
Pensive, and shy, as if oppress'd with wo?
My Delia!--