ARDELIA
to
FLAVIA
,
An
EPISTLE
.
THOU
dearest
Object
of
my
fondest
Love
,
What
Words
can
speak
the
Misery
I
prove
?
Doom'd
as
I
am
by
my
relentless
Fate
,
To
bear
the
worst
of
dreaded
Ills
,
your
Hate
.
Lov'd
tho'
thou
wert
,
in
every
Action
just
,
Have
I
not
wrong'd
thee
by
unkind
Distrust
?
Believ'd
thee
false
,
when
Love
and
Truth
were
thine
,
And
all
the
tender
Joys
of
Friendship
mine
?
Wretch
that
I
am
,
my
fatal
Crime
I
know
,
And
merit
all
the
Anger
you
can
show
.
Do
hate
me
,
loath
me
,
drive
me
from
your
Breast
,
That
Seat
of
Softness
,
Innocence
,
and
Rest
!
Bid
me
my
fatal
Rashness
ever
mourn
;
Fly
my
loath'd
Sight
,
and
curse
me
with
your
Scorn
.
But
oh
!
tho'
Anger
should
each
Grace
transform
,
And
change
to
Roughness
every
smiling
Charm
:
Tho'
those
bright
Eyes
where
Love
and
Sweetness
shine
,
Shou'd
with
the
coldest
Glances
look
on
mine
:
Tho'
that
harmonious
,
that
enchanting
Tongue
,
Where
all
the
Force
of
soft
Perswasion
hung
,
Chide
me
in
cruel
Sounds
,
with
Fury
warm'd
,
And
wound
the
Ears
it
has
so
often
charm'd
:
Still
wou'd
I
bear
it
all
,
with
Patience
bear
,
And
whisper
to
my
Soul
your
Triumph
there
.
But
sure
,
in
Pity
to
my
tender
Pains
,
Some
Spark
of
Friendship
in
thy
Breast
remains
:
To
that
I'll
sue
,
the
languid
Flame
to
raise
,
And
wake
the
sleeping
Passion
to
a
Blaze
:
Try
every
Art
thy
Anger
to
controul
,
And
watch
each
yielding
Moment
in
thy
Soul
;
Some
tender
Fit
of
Softness
in
thy
Breast
,
When
Love's
awake
,
and
Anger
charm'd
to
Rest
.
For
sure
my
Flavia
cannot
always
prove
Deaf
to
the
tender
Prayers
and
Tears
of
Love
.
Oh
teach
me
,
thou
fair
Softness
,
to
atone
For
all
the
Wrongs
I've
to
thy
Friendship
done
.
With
thy
own
Sweetness
thy
just
Rage
disarm
,
And
learn
me
all
thy
well-known
Power
to
charm
.
Direct
me
how
to
make
my
Vows
believ'd
,
To
move
thy
Pity
,
and
thy
Love
retrieve
.
Oh
with
returning
Ardour
ever
bless
The
Heart
which
you
,
and
only
you
possess
.