While, half-respected, half-disdain’d,
We trembling wait the dreaded Doom?
Can’st thou support that grievous State
That Hearts like thee too often prove, 10
The darkest, the severest Fate—
An endless, joyless, hopeless Love?—
She may indeed with pitying Smile
The pain she causes kindly meet;
May sweetly soothe our Woes awhile,
And hold us fast in Bondage sweet.