How well he painted, and how rightly guess’d;
And, while they stood admiring their retreat,
Henry found something like a mossy seat;
But Fanny sat not; no, she rather pray’d
That she might leave him, she was so afraid—
“Not, sir, of you; your goodness I can trust;
But folks are so censorious and unjust,
They make no difference, they pay no regard 310
To our true meaning, which is very hard
And very cruel; great the pain it cost