A Snippet

Dear Lord,

Thou has blessed me with the faculty of seeing. Her beauty hath ripened with coming summers. This love was not sought: witchcraft lies between thy woman's lips. I prithee, free mine soul from this perdition. Lord created such a creature: a devourer of wit, tamer of time. Upon her absence, I fear great desolation.

Black bores, not beauty's name, yet art's would borrow thine face. I detest love's convictions, I humbly beseech thine pardon, Lord. Thy Temptress my mirth, matter, and exercise, all. I know I shall be damned for my carnal affections: amorous rites in hell, come I.

Your most obedient

humble servant.

4th Septr 1782