For all the World beside compassionates my Pain.
’Tis seldom that you write, and when you do,
Your Lukewarmness each Line does plainly shew.
’Tis all but Repetition and Constraint,
Dull is each Word, and each Expression faint.——
My kind Companion took me t’ other day
To the Balcon’ that looks tow’rds Mertola;
The Sight so struck my Heart that, while I stood,
Strait from my Eyes a briny Deluge flow’d.
I then return’d, and strove to ease my Care,