My Friend, I say, now keeps them in her Pow’r,
And I am never to behold ’em more;
She them will secretly to you convey,
Without my Knowledge hasten them away:
Tho’ for a sight I on my Knees shou’d lie,
The more I pray, she must the more deny.
Ne’er had I known the Fury of my Flame
Had I not try’d my Passion to reclaim;
Nay, to attempt a Cure I ’d ne’er begun,
Cou’d I ’ve foreseen the Hazards I must run: