⁠With watching shrunk, with sorrow pale,
Thy lightness and caprice bespeak,
⁠Thy guilt and perfidy bewail.

Those signs of sorrow, on my face,
⁠Are not the obsequies portray'd
Of a lost good, nor yet the trace
⁠Of tribute to thy beauties paid.

They are the evidence alone
⁠There fix'd thy falsehood to proclaim;
Of thy deceits the horror shown,
⁠Of my delirium the shame.

I weep not now thy rigours o'er,
⁠Nor feel regret, that lost to me
Are the returns, which false before
⁠Thou gavest, or favours faithlessly.

I weep o'er my delusions blind;
⁠I mourn the sacrifices made,
And incense to a god unkind
⁠On an unworthy altar laid.

I weep the memory o'er debased
⁠Of my captivity to mourn,
And all the weight and shame disgraced
⁠Of such vile fetters to have borne.