Was I blessed back with; but shook off rudely,
And, as ye had been sold to sordid infamy,
You fell before the Images of treasure,
And in your soul you worship'd: I stood slighted,
Forgotten and contemn'd; my soft embraces,
And those sweet kisses you call'd Elyzium,
As letters writ in sand, no more remembred:
The name and glory of your Cleopatra
Laugh'd at, and made a story to your Captains,
Shall I endure?