s to you, I regard all these excellences
as you will please to direct them for my happiness or misery. With me,
madam, the only lasting motive to love, is the hope of its becoming
mutual. I beg of you to let Mrs. Warren send me word when I may attend
you. I promise you, I will talk of nothing but indifferent things;
though, at the same time, I know not how I shall approach you in the
tender moment of first seeing you after this declaration which has
been made by, madam,
Your most obedient and most faithful
humble servant.
TO THE SAME
_A pleasing transport_
Smith Street, Westminster, 1707.
Madam,--I lay down last night with your image in my thoughts, and
have awakened this morning in the same contemplation. The pleasing
transport with which I am delighted has a sweetness in it attended
with a train of ten thousand soft desires, anxieties, and cares.
The day arises on my hopes with new brightness; youth, beauty, and
innocence are the charming objects that steal me from myself, and give
me joys above the reach of ambition, pride, or glory. Believe me, fair
one, to throw myself at your feet is giving myself the highest bliss
I know on earth. Oh, hasten, ye minutes! bring on the happy morning
wherein to be ever hers will make me look down on thrones! Dear Molly,
I am tenderly, passionately, faithfully thine.
TO THE SAME
_A lover betrays himself_
St. James's Coffee House, 1 _Sept._ 1707
Madam,--It is the hardest thing in the world to be in love, and yet to
attend to business. As for me, all who speak to me find me out, and I
must lock myself up, or other people will do it for me.
A gentleman asked me this morning, 'What news from Lisbon?' and I
answered, 'She's exquisitely handsome.' Another desired to know when I
had been last at Hampton Court. I replied, 'It will be on Tuesday come
se'nnight.' Pr'ythee allow me at least to kiss your hand before that
day, that my mind may be in some composure. O love!
A thousand torments dwell about thee!
Yet who would live to live without thee?
Methinks I could write a volume to you; but all the language on earth
would fail in saying how much, and with what disinterested passion, I
am ever yours.
TO HIS WIFE
_He proposes an outing_
Lord Sunderland's Office, 19 May, 1708.
Eleven o'clock.
Dear Prue,--I desire you to get the coach and yourself ready as soon
as you can conveniently, and call for me here, from whence we will go
and
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