In vain ’gainst you I strove my Heart to arm,
For you in ev’ry Action had a Charm.
Your pleasing Humour, and the Oaths you swore,
Made me believe you ever wou’d adore.
But now (alas!) those grateful Thoughts are fled,
And all my Hopes are with my Pleasures dead:
I sigh and weep, a thousand Plagues possess
My Soul, and give me not a moment’s Ease.
{Great were my past Delights, I must confess,
{Excessive were the Joys, and vast the Bliss,