Limbs so fair, they might supply
(Themselves now but cold imagery)
The sculptor to make Beauty by.
Or did the stern-eyed Fate descry 30
That babe or mother, one must die;
So in mercy left the stock,
And cut the branch; to save the shock
Of young years widowed, and the pain
When Single State comes back again 35
To the lone man who, reft of wife,