Blind with the fondness of my own Desire,
Else might have found my Joys wou’d soon expire.
How cou’d I think that you’d contented be
To leave your Friends and Native Place for me?
Alas! Remembrance of my former Joys
Adds to the Number of my Miseries.
Will all my flatt’ring Hopes then prove in vain?
Must I ne’er Live to see you here again?
Why may not I once more behold your Charms,
Once more enfold you in my longing Arms?