All that I have of yours shall be convey’d
To you, without so much as mention made
Of your loath’d Name; the Pacquet shall not bear
Those Letters which I now detest to hear.
In Donna Brites I can well confide,
And whom, you know, I ’ve other ways imploy’d;
Your Picture she ’ll (and all that ’s yours) remove,
Those once-endearing Pledges of your Love:
A thousand Times I ’ve had a strong Desire
To tear and throw them in the flaming Fire;