TO MRS. B. FROM A LADY WHO HAD A DESIRE TO SEE HER by ANONYMOUS

Send me your pity bounteous Shepherdess;
That I the face of grief no more may know,
If I deserve it that cou'd Love so low;
Consult not that, but charity and give
One tender pittying sigh that I may live:
(That I may thus make my complaint to you,)
Kind are my Stars indeed at last 'tis true;
Let not my rude and untam'd griefs destroy,
The early glimmerings of an infant joy:
And add not your neglect, for if you doe,
@3Cleone@1 finds her desolation too!
Know this it yet remains in your fair breast,
To render me the happy or unblest.
You may act miracles if you'l be kind,
Make me true joys in real sorrows find;
And bless the hour I hither did pursue
A faithless Swain and found access to you:
Accept the heart I here to you present,
By the ingratitude of Strephon rent;
Till then gay, noble, full of brave disdain,
And unless yours prevent shall be again;
As once it was, if in your generous brest,
It may be Pensioner at my request
No more to Treasons subject as before
To be betray'd by a fair tale no more,
As large as once, as uncontroul'd and free,
But yet at your command shall always be.

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