...them, would I -wifh them here? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defir'd, perhaps I might. — But no — what here we call our life is fuch, So little to be loved, and thou fo much, That I fherald ill requite thee to conftrain Thy unbound...

...them, would I wifh them hei« ? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defir'd, perhaps I might. — But no— what here we call our life is fucb, So little to be loved, and thou fo much, That I mould ill requite thee to ccr.lf r..ia • ]...

...would I wifli them here ? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defir'ii, perhaps I might.— But no — what here we call our life is fuch, So little to be lov'd, and thou fo much, That I mould ill requite thee to conftrain Thy unbound...

...them, would I wifh them here ? I would not truft my heart— the dear delight Seems fo to be defir'd, perhaps I might. — But no — what here we call our life is fuch, -So little to be loved, and thou fo much, .f1 That I fhould ill requite thee to conftrain Thy...

...appear, Wight one wish bring them, would 1 wish them here ? -M 4 I would not trust my heart — the dear delight Seems so to be desir'd, perhaps I might. — But no — what here we call our lite is such, So little to be lov'd, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain...

...them, would I wifh them here ? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defired, perhaps I might.— But no— what here we call our life is I'uch, So little to be loved, and thou fo much, That I fhould ill requite thee to conftrain Thy unbound...

...them, would I wim them litre? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defir'd, perhaps I might.— But no — what here we call our life is fuch, So little to be lov'd, and thou fo much, „ That I mould ill requite thee to conflrain Thy unbound...

...them, would I wifh them here ? I would not truft my heart — the dear delight Seems fo to be defired, perhaps I might, — • But no — what here we call our life is fuch, So little to be loved, and thou fo much, That I mould ill rcquiti thee to conftriin Thy unbound...

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...them, would I wish them here? . I would not trust my heart— the dear delight Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.— But no — what here we call our life is such, So little to be loved, and thou so much, That I should ill requite thee to constrain Thy unbound spirit into bonds...