Your Picture as unvaluable I prize,
And have it always fixt before my Eyes:
The Counterfeit does Satisfaction give;
But when I think that I must never live
To see the Bright, the Fair Original,
Great are the Horrors, great the Pains I feel,
Oh! how I ’m wrack’d and torn with endless Pain
To think I ne’er must see you here again!
But why shou’d it be possible to be
That I your lovely Form no more must see?