My only Comfort is, I ’ve been to you,
Spite of this Absence, constant, just, and true;
And can you then, who all my Thoughts controul,
And know the earnest Secrets of my Soul,
Can you be so regardless of my Pray’r,
T’ abandon me for ever to Despair?
{You see I ’m mad, but yet I ’ll not complain,
{For I ’m so us’d to suffer your Disdain,
{That now I find a Pleasure in my Pain.——
But what ’s my greatest Curse, those things no more