To Chariessa,[7:1]

Desiring her to Burn his Verses.

These papers, Chariessa, let thy breath Condemn, thy hand unto the flames bequeath; 'Tis fit who gave them life, should give them death.

And whilst[7:2] in curled flames to heaven they rise, Each trembling sheet shall, as it upwards flies, Present itself to thee a sacrifice.

Then when above[7:3] its native orb it came, And reach'd the lesser lights o' th' sky, this flame, Contracted to a star, should wear thy name,

Or falling down on earth from its bright sphere, Shall in a diamond's shape its lustre bear, And trouble (as it did before) thine ear.

But thou wilt cruel even in mercy be, Unequal in thy justice, who dost free Things without sense from flames, and yet not me!