Honora, Shou'D That Cruel Time Arrive When 'Gainst My Truth Thou Should'St My Errors Poize, Scorning Remembrance Of Our Vanish'D Joys; When For The Love-Warm Looks, In Which I Live, But Cold Respect Must Greet Me, That Shall Give No Tender Glance, No Kind Regretful Sighs; When Thou Shalt Pass Me With Averted Eyes, Feigning Thou See'St Me Not, To Sting, And Grieve, And Sicken My Sad Heart, I Cou'D Not Bear Such Dire Eclipse Of Thy Soul-Cheering Rays; I Cou'D Not Learn My Struggling Heart To Tear From Thy Lov'D Form, That Thro' My Memory Strays; Nor In The Pale Horizon Of Despair Endure The Wintry And The Darken'D Days. April 1773.