'E'er this (my Dear) will reach thy…

'E'er this (my Dear) will reach thy lovely Hand, 'I shall have ever left my Native Land; 'Cast out from thee, no matter where Iroam, 'The Tryal's o'er, Iv'e suffer'd All at Home. 'To rough unpolish'd Cells, I now retire, 'And leave behind fond Hope, and fierce Desire; 'Yet Love will there maintain a languid Flame, 'Like Lamps in Tombs, tho' useless, burn the same. 'Did my Florella now her Pilgrim view, 'She'd own the Wonders mighty Love can do; 'Wou'd say, I in this Parting suffer'd more 'Than ever wretched Mortal did before. 'Did she my Trembling, and my Tortures see, 'I'm sure she'd pity and remember me,