He ’s as impatient, as if he, like you,
Were running from another Mistress too,
Farewel—from me you parted with more ease
(Perhaps for ever too) than I can do with these.
My Mind a thousand pleasing Notions frames,
And I cou’d call you many tender Names;
More dear than is my Life to me, are you;
And dearer far than I imagine too;
Sure never any yet so cruel prov’d,
To be so barb’rous when so well belov’d.