Their tricks I can never forget—
Those lawyers undid my repose.
Yet the Times may diminish my pain,
If the Statesman and Traveller agree—
Which I rear'd for her pleasure in vain—
Yes, the Times shall have comfort for me.
Mrs. W—d, ope your doors then apace;
To your deepest recesses I fly;
I must hide my poor woe-begone face.
I must vanish from every eye.