She read; and forth to Me She wildly ran,
To Me, the Ease of all her former Pain.
She kneel'd intreated, struggl'd, threaten'd, cry'd;
And with alternate Passion liv'd, and dy'd:
'Till now deny'd the Liberty to mourn,
And by rude Fury from my Presence torn,
This only Object of my real Care,
Cut off from Hope, abandon'd to Despair,
In some few posting fatal Hours is hurl'd
From Wealth, from Pow'r, from Love, and from the World.