{The Dictates of my Heart, and shew’d you what they meant.
But now they must be other ways employ’d:
When I reflect on what I have enjoy’d
Tears of their own accord in Streams will flow,
To think I ’m scorned, and left by faithless you.
{And yet my Passion does so far exceed
{A vulgar Flame, that I with Pleasure bleed,
{And doat upon the Torments which from you proceed.
From the first moment I beheld your Face,
To you I dedicated all my Days: