University of Virginia Library

To George Mordaunt, Esq;

OH! Mordaunt! I am indeed undone: I was too confident of my own strength: I depended on the power of gratitude and honor over my heart, but find them too weak to defend me against such inexpressible loveliness: I could have resisted her beauty only, but the mind which irradiates those speaking eyes–the melting music of those gentle accents, "soft as the fleeces of descending snows"–the delicacy, yet lively tenderness of her sentiments–that angel innocence –that winning sweetness–the absence of her parents, and Lady Anne's coquetry with Lord Fondville, have given me opportunities of conversing with her, which have for ever destroyed my peace–I must tear myself from her–I will leave Belmont the moment my Lord returns–I am for ever lost–doomed to wretchedness–but

I will be wretched alone–I tremble lest my eyes should have discovered–lest pity should involve her in my misery.

Great heavens! was I not sufficiently unhappy? to stab me to the heart, I have just received the following letter from Lord Belmont.