For faithless as you are, I ’m still inclin’d
Not to revenge, but rather to be kind.——
Tis plain, I ’m now the least of all your Care,
Else you ’d have some regard to My Despair.
But I, tho’ wrack’d and torn with endless Pain,
To one relentless as the grave complain.
Yet I, fond I! regardless of my Fame,
Still Cherish, and Indulge this fatal Flame;
{In vain my Reason offers to perswade,
{I scorn its Counsel, and contemn its Aid,