A Letter to Cousin F. R

In secret Yearning for thy Preservation Endeared Friend, I send the Salutation Of Love unfeign'd, and heartily desire Its pure refining Flame may ne'er expire, Or be extinguish'd: For 'twas said of old, Iniquities abound, when Love grows cold. Now, tho' thy silent Pen doth testify, There's some (yet latent) Cause of Jealousie: I'll not my Rival envy, if it be One worthy to be entertain'd by thee, Without Detraction from that innate Worth, Whereto (I hope) thou art by second Birth Entituled. But can Affairs so crowd Or interpose, no Hour must be allow'd To send some welcome Evidence of Love, Which did so mutually engage and move Our Hearts and Pens so frequently t'express Their Quondam Sympathy? Well, ne'ertheless What's character'd in my poor pausing Mind, I send unto thee, as by Love inclin'd; Wishing thy Candid Aspect on the same, Or else annihilate them in a Flame.