And view this mangled shade,
That in thy perjur'd faith relied
And basely was betray'd.[271]
Embrew'd in bliss, embath'd in ease,
Tho' now thou seem'st to lie,
My injur'd form shall gall thy peace,
And make thee wish to die.
Fancy no more in pleasing dreams
Shall frisk before thy sight,
But horrid thoughts and dismal screams