⎬

⎭

Thus she ran on two Hours, some Grains of Sense
Still mixt with Follies of Impertinence.

But now ’tis Time I shou’d some Pity show
To Cloe, since I cannot chuse but know,
Readers must reap what dullest Writers sow.

⎫

⎬

⎭

Farewel.