XXVII

Fond wretch! and what canst thou relate,

But deeds of sorrow, shame, and sin?

Thy deeds are proved⁠—thou know’st thy fate;

But come, thy tale⁠—begin⁠—begin.

But I have griefs of other kind,

Troubles and sorrows more severe;

Give me to ease my tortured mind,

Lend to my woes a patient ear;