I gain'd them to my wish, and they are grown
Too hateful to be look'd on.—Thus I've seen
The frail fair dupe of amorous perfidy,
The victim of a smile,—by man beguiled—
Won to debasement, and then left in loathing:—
Alas! I cannot leave my fatal conquest!—
Man! would I were the humblest mortal wretch,
That crawls beneath yon shadowing temple's tower,
Under the sky of Canaan; so I might
Lay down this weight of sceptred misery,