See , lovely unrelenting Laura , see,
The very Heavens bewail your Cruelty!
The sobbing Breezes to my Grief reply,
Weep to my Tears, and to my Murmurs sigh:
In-animate, my Pity they regard,
And mourn a Nymph so soft, and yet so hard!
But wretched Swain for ever now despair,
Nor fondly hope to melt the cruel Fair;
For how should Mortal's Sighs and Tears prevail,
When even thus the Gods themselves can fail!