{Nor art Thou ever present in his Thought.——
But hold! my Passion hurries me too far,
And makes me think you falser than you are.
You’ve, sure, more Honour than to use me so
For what I have endur’d and done for you,
Forget me! ’tis impossible you shou’d;
Nay, I believe you cannot if you wou’d.
My Case is bad enough without that Curse,
I need not find fresh Plagues to make it worse.
And when I think with how much care you strove