To your unpattern'd self, were to require
A language only form'd in the desire
Of him that writes. It is the common fate
Of greatest duties, to evaporate
In silent meaning, as we often see
Fires by their too much fuel smother'd be:
Small obligations may find vent, and speak,
10When greater the unable debtor break.
And such are mine to you, whose favour's store
Hath made me poorer then I was before;