What will th’ Event of my Misfortunes be,

How can I hold, now all my hopes retire?

On them I liv’d, and must with them expire.

Where are the cordial Lines to heal my Pain,

T’ assure me I shall see you here again?

Where are the Letters that should bring Relief,

Compose my Soul, and mitigate my Grief?

Fool’d with vain Projects, I of late design’d

To strive to calm and heal my tortur’d Mind:

The slender Hopes I have of seeing you,