Go — you may call it madness, folly...

By Samuel Rogers

Go — you may call it madness, folly;

You shall not chase my gloom away.

There's such a charm in melancholy,

I would not, if I could, be gay.

Oh, if you knew the pensive pleasure

That fills my bosom when I sigh,

You would not rob me of a treasure

Monarchs are too poor to buy.