--_Ego Pars_--VIRG.
In wedlock a species of lottery lies,
Where in blanks and in prizes we deal;
But how comes it that you, such a capital prize,
Should so long have remained in the wheel?
If ever, by Fortune's indulgent decree,
To me such a ticket should roll,
A sixteenth, Heaven knows! were sufficient for me;
For what could _I_ do with the whole?